


free spirit

by PitchonthePitch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Feelings, First Meetings, Ghost Hunters, Hate to Love, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Merlin Has Magic (Merlin), Merlin is trying his best, Merthur endgame, Necromancy, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Smoking, Unrequited Crush, a LITTLE bit of arwen at the beginning, and it's a misunderstanding so, arthur is a ghost, i should really tag my stories while i'm outlining them, idk all the ship names, just a tiny bit, merlin/elyan/gwaine brot3, no one is with who they're supposed to be at first, oh well, oh! also, pendragon family feels, side elyan/freya at the beginning, side elyan/gwaine, side gwen/morgana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchonthePitch/pseuds/PitchonthePitch
Summary: Arthur wants his life back. Merlin's just trying to do his job.Merlin works as a camerman for Ghost Getters, a show in which paranormal investigators Gwaine and Elyan poke around allegedly-haunted locations. As a warlock who lives in fear of his friends finding out about his powers, Merlin is not interested in proving to the world that the supernatural is real. He took this job for the paycheck, and he stayed for the show's cute but unavailable paranormal investigator. Three years into filming the show, Merlin is shocked to find an actual, real life ghost on one of their visits. Arthur Pendragon is the most stubborn, obnoxious ghost Merlin has ever met, and he's determined to convince Merlin to bring him back to life. Unfortunately, necromancy is no easy task. Along the way, feelings get muddled and things get... complicated. More complicated than bringing a prat back from the brink of death.The title is inspired by Khalid's song of the same name.





	1. Chapter 1

When Merlin walked into Pendragon Estates, he felt a strange sense of dread and unease. He couldn’t say at once why he felt such things in the presence of the mansion. Most people lucky enough to be granted entry into Pendragon Estates were similarly struck with intense emotions upon entering the building; however, those emotions were usually awe and wonder, not dread and unease. The mansion was exquisite, with high ceilings and polished railings and antique architecture. The picture of old wealth.

Then again, Merlin wasn’t like most people who had been granted entry to Pendragon Estates in the past. He wasn’t impressed by such gross displays of wealth. All he could think was how the painting hung on the wall next to the door probably cost more than his next month’s rent. He credited his discomfort to the obscene wealthiness of the mansion and headed toward the staircase that led into the rest of the house. 

The staircase let out into a vast ballroom. Dust had settled onto the pretty linoleum floor from years of unuse. The vastness of the room only seemed to emphasize the absence of people. Merlin tried to imagine how it must have looked all those years ago, full of people dancing and socializing. He couldn’t. Pendragon Estates felt more like a museum than a home. He shuddered to think of Uther Pendragon spending his last days here.

He passed through the ballroom, the echoing corridors, and finally he was in the old man’s bedchambers. A door off to the side of the room connected to Uther Pendragon’s home office. The room where he died. 

Merlin could hear voices on the other side of it.

Pushing aside his feelings of dread and unease, he opened the door.

“Merlin!” 

“Hi, Gwaine.”

He had to admit: he didn’t normally get spooked by the places they visited. And they visited some pretty creepy places: old churches and decrepit asylums. But somehow, Pendragon Estates had them all beat in terms of spookiness. When he first entered the mansion, Merlin was certain his anxiousness was simply caused by the obscene wealthiness of the place. After all, what mere mortal could walk into such a horrid display of extravagance and not feel sick? The door was panelled with what looked like real gold. 

But the office he entered now, a small and austere room, sent further shivers down his back. He was uncharacteristically disturbed. 

Gwaine grinned at him, looking smug, and Merlin knew his fear had not gone unnoticed. 

He scolded himself. He’d been in far scarier places than this before. Just because this one felt… lonelier than most, and more decadent by far, did not mean he would allow himself to get worked up. 

“Scared already?” Gwaine teased. “Elyan hasn’t even started telling ghost stories yet.”

Merlin worked as a cameraman for Gwaine and Elyan while they investigated allegedly “haunted” locations for their Youtube channel.

It wasn’t exactly his dream job. He didn’t go to film school because he wanted to shoot footage proving the existence of the supernatural. In fact, if you had told him that was what he’d be using his degree for, he would have laughed in your face. Merlin wasn’t like Gwaine or Elyan. He knew the supernatural was all real. Hell, as the son of a priestess, he’d grown up with it. 

And there was one thing he knew about the supernatural: it was not simply hunted down. On the contrary, it usually did the hunting. He’d been chased down by enough ghosts in his day to attest to that fact. Nearly every recorded “ghost sighting” was fake, done by shows like Ghost Getters for publicity. Only a very few number of people in the world could actually see ghosts. They couldn’t be recorded on media, at all.

Merlin didn’t work on Ghost Getters because he believed they would actually find proof of the supernatural. He knew his job wasn’t going to change history or get his name attached to any awards. So what? Lots of people sold out in showbiz, right? 

It paid the bills. And he liked the people.

“Ready to catch a ghost?” Gwaine grinned in that lopsided way of his, angling a look at Elyan.

Elyan was not amused. “Be careful what you wish for,” he said. “One day we might actually find something, believe it or not.”

Gwaine and Elyan were the Mulder and Scully of Youtube. They started their Ghost Getters channel three years ago. Gwaine was the cynical skeptic; Elyan was the wide-eyed believer. You’d think it was just an act they put on for the cameras, but they really were like that in real life. Gwaine wanted Elyan to look for proof before jumping to conclusions. Elyan wanted Gwaine to take a leap of faith and believe in something without the need for proof. 

Then there was the rest of the team. Lance and Percival were on sound and lighting. Lance was the most reliable worker Merlin knew. He problem-solved well, and he always brought coffee for the crew. Percival looked like he should be a bodyguard or a professional stunt double, not a crew worker, but he was actually the most gentle person on set -- maybe even the most gentle person Merlin had ever met. They both waved to him now, while they set up the equipment for shooting.

“What ghost are we looking for today?” Merlin asked. He knew it was Uther Pendragon, but he didn’t know any of the details. Plus, he liked hearing Elyan explain the cases to him. He got excited and used a lot of hand gestures. Sometimes he even rambled.

Elyan probably had dreamed of ghost hunting when he was in film school. Merlin got comfortable in a plush, leather lounge chair while he listened to him. He rested his camera on his knee and got it ready to film, hoping to calm the strange bundle of nerves that settled inside him the moment he walked in the mansion.

“Uther Pendragon,” Elyan said. “He died here five years ago. In that chair, actually.”

Merlin looked up from his camera. “This chair?” 

“The very one you’re sitting in,” Gwaine grinned.

Merlin jumped up, nearly dropping his camera. 

Gwaine cackled; Merlin glared at him. Elyan at least had the decency to hold back his laughter. 

So much for comfort. “Let’s just start filming,” Merlin said. “Lance, Perce, are we good on sound and lights?” 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Percy said.

“Good on sound, Boss,” Lancelot said. 

Like always, Merlin tried not to squirm at the sound of someone calling him “Boss.” That was another unexpected change in his career path: he’d never thought of himself as a boss. He’d always just thought of himself as that weird kid with the camera. But technically, he was Head of Production here. He tried to take the change in stride. “Alright,” he said to the crew, “we are rolling in three, two, one…” 

Elyan filled the audience in on what had happened in the Pendragon residence. Uther Pendragon was a business mogul who died five years ago. His property went to his eldest child, Arthur Pendragon. Recently, the property had been transferred to Uther’s other child, Morgana Pendragon. Hence why the Ghost Getters were now allowed inside. They were among the first people to visit the house since Uther’s death. Arthur hadn’t allowed anyone on the premises. Merlin was starting to understand why the place seemed more like a shrine or a museum than a house. 

Uther’s death was labelled as a heart attack, but of course Elyan had a few other theories about the true cause of his exodus. Those theories included, but were not limited to, murder, toxic fumes, and alien abduction.

“Alien abduction?” Gwaine cried. “They found his body!”

“We don’t know how advanced alien technology is,” Elyan said. “A popular theory on message boards is that he could have been abducted, and the aliens could have left behind a dead Uther Pendragon clone to cover their tracks.” 

Gwaine looked ready to pitch a fit after hearing that theory. Merlin had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Maybe the two of them would never find a real ghost, but personally, Merlin thought their bickering was more entertaining than any ghost ever could be. And he’d met a good number of ghosts in his day, not that he would ever tell them so. 

He was ashamed to admit it, but the truth was, Merlin was actually sort of relieved to know Gwaine and Elyan would never find indisputable proof of the supernatural. Only a few people in the world were meant to know about the magic that lay hidden in the shadows. There was a reason so few people had the gift: the world could never handle the truth. 

Gwaine and Elyan could never know the truth. As much as Merlin loved them, and the rest of the crew, he was afraid to think of what might happen if people like them ever knew about people like Merlin. Who could blame him? He grew up hearing bedtime stories about the Salem witch trials: fearmongering, waving torches, killing innocents. The danger of being different was the monster under his bed. It changed over the years, but it never went away. Witch trials became insane asylums; fiery pyres became lobomitizations. 

Maybe the world was less afraid now than it had been back then. You didn’t hear as much about people being burned at the stake, at least. Shows like Ghost Getters made ghosts look like nothing more than shadows and light breezes. Teenage girls bought Ouija boards and played “Light as a Feather” at sleepovers. Hell, real sorcerers and witches that had practiced magic for decades were being pushed out of their shops and neighborhoods by rich white ladies who wanted to try Voodoo. 

You could call it progress, he supposed. Ignorance was ignorance no matter how civilized it acted; the monster never went away. But Merlin thought perhaps this monster was one he could live with. This monster knocked before it dragged you out of your house, at least. This monster gave you ninety days to vacate the premises. This monster didn’t burn you alive; it left you to die cold and alone. And all the while, this monster played with your relics and imitated your rituals and made money off of them. 

It was a game for them. That’s why they were unafraid. They didn’t really believe in the spells they casted, or the ghosts they hunted.

Except Elyan. Merlin knew he believed, because he was afraid. Whenever they filmed in an allegedly-haunted location, he spoke in a shaky voice, he jumped at every creak he heard, and he needed to take a moment to catch his breath whenever they caught the slightest hint of “supernatural activity.” Even when that “supernatural activity” proved to be the wind, or the creak of an old house, or, in one case, the sound of a stray cat scurrying around the basement of an old church.

But this was their third year filming the show, and they had yet to find any concrete evidence. Even Elyan’s belief was starting to dim. Merlin could see it fade, the more places they visited that turned up nothing. 

It hurt to watch. Elyan was the only human Merlin had ever met who had the same respect for the supernatural as him. And his belief was so… pure and innocent. Merlin had always known the supernatural was real. He’d never had the chance to develop any faith in it. It just… was. Ghosts, magic, demons -- they were all facts to him, as much as gravity or darwinism. You didn’t think of gravity as a miracle; you just thought of it as a natural part of life.

In a way, magic was more precious to Elyan than it ever could be to Merlin. Merlin may have had magic, but Elyan believed in it. With his heart and soul, Elyan believed in it. 

“Hey!” 

Merlin was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of some asshole yelling. “What the hell are you people doing in my father’s house?” Merlin must have been zoned out for awhile, because suddenly a blond prat was standing in the middle of their production. 

Sighing, he shut the camera down. The guy was still yelling. “Can none of you see me? I’m standing right here!” The git actually starting stomping; Merlin wanted to laugh.

No one else was laughing, though. Actually, no one else was even looking at the guy. They were all looking at Merlin. 

Gwaine spoke up first. “Merlin, bud, you okay?” 

Merlin sputtered. “Am I okay?” 

“You stopped filming,” Elyan said, as if that was the detail Merlin needed clarification on. Not the random wanker who just wandered onto their set.

Speaking of, said wanker was now also looking at Merlin. His eyes widened when he saw Merlin looking back. “You can see me!” 

Oh. Oh, no. “No, I can’t.” 

Gwaine placed a hand on his shoulder. There was a crease worrying his eyebrow. “Can’t what? Can’t film?” 

“We could always take a break,” Lance suggested, looking worried himself. 

“Yeah,” Percy piped up. “I could use five myself. I’ve been holding it since we got to this place, and I never like to be holding it when we’re ghost hunting. Feels like tempting fate, you know?” He walked off, presumably to find a bathroom in the house. If Merlin hadn’t been so focused on the apparition in front of him, he might’ve thought to tell him that this place probably didn’t have working plumbing. 

He knew there was something off about this house! The sense of dread and unease he felt when he entered Pendragon Estates was starting to make a lot more sense. 

The guy looked enraged. Merlin never thought he could see a ghost look so red. “You will not use my father’s bathroom! You, camera person!” He was looking at Merlin again. “Tell that ridiculous oaf to stay out of my father’s bathroom!” 

Elyan was looking at Merlin pensively. “What’s wrong, Merlin?” he said. “Did you see something?”

“I…” 

Merlin had never seen a ghost on one of their visits. Ghosts were things he saw when he was on ley lines, or part of a seance, or in a graveyard on the night of the Summer Solstice. They weren’t things he saw on September afternoons when he was walking around old, abandoned buildings with a few of his buddies and a camera. He didn’t have a lie prepared for Gwaine and Elyan. He never expected that on one of their ghost-hunting exploits, they would actually find a real, honest-to-gods ghost. 

“Nothing,” he said. “Lance and Percy are right; let’s take five. I could use some air.” 

With that, he left the office. He didn’t miss the concerned look that Gwaine and Elyan shared as he passed them. 

Quickly, he traversed back through the twisted halls, the vast ballroom, and the enormous staircase that led back to the house’s entrance. He didn’t stop till he pushed through the heavy double doors that led outside. Here, a sweeping patio curved around the expanse of the front of the mansion, complete with pillars and gargoyles. 

He lit up a cigarette and waited. 

The blond appeared at his shoulder. 

“I have five minutes,” Merlin said. “Then I’m going back inside, and I’m going to pretend you don’t exist. And I promise, after we get the film we need, me and my friends will never enter your father’s house again.” 

“Your friends,” the guy repeated. His next words surprised Merlin. “Gwaine and Elyan.” 

“You know them?” 

“I know their show. I was a fan, actually, before I…” He sighed. “I’m dead now, aren’t I?”

Merlin blew out some more smoke. He hated when he had to break the news to them. “Yeah.”

This guy at least took it better than others. No crying or screaming; he just nodded, like he’d expected as much. “What’s your name?” Merlin asked him.

“Arthur Pendragon.” 

Merlin choked on his cigarette. “You’re Arthur Pendragon? Uther’s son?”

Well. Now he knew why the property was transferred over to Morgana. 

“The one and only,” he said. “I woke up in a hospital, but no one there could see me. I went home, and my fiance couldn’t see me. Eventually, I found my way here.” He narrowed his eyes at Merlin. “How can you see me?” 

Merlin made a big show of looking at his watch. “We have three minutes. Do you really want to spend that time talking about me?” When Arthur didn’t push the matter, Merlin went on with the usual spiel. “If you want to cross over and find peace, you just have to complete your unfinished business.” 

Arthur frowned. “How am I supposed to know what my unfinished business is?” 

“Well generally,” Merlin said, “it’s the part of your life that feels unfinished.” 

Arthur snorted.

Merlin was less amused. He was running out of time, and the last thing he wanted was for someone to come looking for him and catch him talking to thin air. “Look, you said you’re engaged, right? Go back home. Find a way to give your fiance closure, or something.”

“How am I supposed to give her closure if she can’t see me?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said. “Place a hand on her shoulder and say how you feel. Play your wedding song on the radio. You’ll figure it out.” 

Arthur didn’t look convinced. “I’m not going to haunt Guinevere,” he huffed. Then, he got an idea. Merlin could see it form behind his wide eyes and hopeful brow. “Wait a minute. Gwen can’t see me. But you can! You could communicate with her for me.” 

“Yes,” Merlin said, “because newly widowed women respond so well to strange men coming into their homes with a message from their dead fiances.” He knew he was being curt with someone who had just experienced what was quite literally a life-shattering change. 

But, he had gone through this shit before. Countless lost souls came to him looking to reconnect with their loved ones, and Merlin tried to help them. Best case scenario: Merlin reopened an old wound and the loved one was forced to go through the grieving process all over again. Worst case scenario? Merlin didn’t even like to imagine worst case scenario. He had a horrible feeling it would be like that movie Premonition. 

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who told me I need to find my unfinished business, or whatever. And you’re the only person I’ve come across that can actually see me, so I’m not leaving you alone until you agree to help me.” Arthur set his jaw and crossed his arms, petulantly. Merlin got the distinct feeling he wasn’t used to being told no. “So, what’ll it be?” 

“No,” Merlin said. He stomped out his cigarette and went back into the house. Five minutes were up.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of filming was a nightmare.  Arthur made good on his promise not to leave Merlin alone.  He made commentary for the whole show, with snark that matched that of Gwaine.  Merlin had to bite the inside of his cheek till it was bloody to keep from laughing -- or just telling the git to shut up, already.  

 

“Did you hear that?” Elyan asked.

 

“No,” Gwaine said. 

 

“I thought I heard something.”

 

“Amazing; here I am, a ghost, and Elyan is still making me doubt the existence of ghosts.  Every little creak and groan is not a ghost, Elyan!”

 

When they turned on the spirit box, and it started making its loud, staticy noise like usual, Arthur covered his ears and sang All Star to drown out the noise.  The spirit box didn’t pick up any of the lyrics. When they said goodbye to their viewers at the end of the episode, Arthur sat between the two of them and waved goodbye as well.  He spoke in unison with Elyan when he delivered his famous catchphrase: “Whether or not ghosts are real will remain… unknown.” Merlin bit his cheek harder and prayed to every god he knew for mercy.

 

Finally, he was free.  He shut down the camera and cheered Lance and Percy on a job well done.  If either of them noticed Merlin’s internal conflict during shooting, they didn’t say so.

 

Gwaine walked Merlin to his car at the end of the day.  This was a custom that Merlin was still growing used to.  It started a few months ago, after they filmed a particularly exciting episode that had left Elyan rather shaken.  With a teasing smile, Gwaine had offered to walk him to his car so no spirits got to him on the way there. Sticking out his tongue, Elyan said he could manage just fine, and if anyone was likely to get attacked by a demon on the way out of a haunted house, it was Gwaine.  Merlin agreed, though he didn’t say so. After all, Gwaine was the one who went around allegedly-haunted houses yelling things like, “Come at me ghosts!” and “Hey there, ghouls, it’s me, ya boy!”

 

As Elyan walked off to his car alone, Gwaine had sighed, looking surprisingly put out.  He slumped his shoulders and stared off where Elyan left. Merlin was touched by the sight.  As much as Gwaine teased Elyan, Merlin knew he really cared about him. He hoped Elyan knew, too.  Elyan could get so caught up in his theories and speculation, he often seemed to forget the difference between love and validation.  Gwaine loved Elyan, even when he didn’t agree with him, but Elyan wanted validation: he wanted other people to agree with him that wonder and magic and spirits may not be as impossible as they seem.        

 

Merlin agreed with him, of course.  But he understood why Gwaine didn’t.  And he knew that Gwaine disagreeing with Elyan didn’t mean he loved him any less.  So, when Gwaine next turned to Merlin and offered to walk _him_ to _his_ car, Merlin said yes.  

 

The next day, Gwaine didn’t bother asking.  He just waited for Merlin at the end of the day and walked him to his car again.  Then he did it the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Merlin didn’t mind.  Gwaine was a good guy, and even if Merlin wasn’t scared of any ghouls catching him on his way to his car, he appreciated his company all the same.

 

Less so today.  He hoped Gwaine didn’t notice how distracted he was as they walked.  

 

Gwaine, for his part, had no trouble filling in Merlin’s silence with his own chatter.  “This is not a good year for Elyan.” It really wasn’t. The most ‘supernatural’ sighting they’d had all year was a strange sound from the basement of an asylum -- which could have been footsteps but also could have been stray racoons, or something.  “I think he’s hoping you turned off your camera because you got possessed or something.”

 

“Oh man, that would be crazy,” Merlin said.

 

“Can I possess people?” Arthur wondered.  He walked on Merlin’s other side.

 

“Seriously, though.”  They got to his car; Gwaine opened the driver’s door for him.  He leaned his arms on top of it, so the usual height difference between him and Merlin was gone, and he looked him right in the eye.  “Are you okay? You seemed pretty rattled back there.”

 

“Yeah,” Merlin said, sliding into the seat.  “I’m fine. I just needed some air.”

 

“Good,” Gwaine smiled.  “We need our cameraman in top shape.”  With a wink, he closed the door for Merlin.  He turned and headed for his own car, looking back at Merlin once.  When he caught him looking back, he offered a small wave.

 

“Oh,” Arthur gasped.  “Oh, he likes you! Shame.  I always shipped him and Elyan.”    

 

“Elyan has a girlfriend.”

 

Arthur’s face crumpled.  “This day gets worse and worse.”

 

“And Gwaine doesn’t like me,” Merlin added.  “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a good guy.”

 

“A good guy who’s got it bad for you.”  

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“And you’re talking to nobody.  Watch out, he’s coming back.”

 

Merlin swallowed his retort and rolled down his window.

 

“Hey, Merlin,” Gwaine said.  This time, he leaned his arms against the windowpane, so Merlin was eye-to-eye with him once again.  “I was wondering… Do you want to get dinner tonight?”

 

“Oh,” Merlin said.  “Yeah, maybe. Who’s all coming?”  

 

Arthur snorted.

 

Gwaine’s smile faltered a little.  “I was thinking, just you and me.”

 

“Oh,” Merlin said, again.  “You know, tonight’s not really a good time.  But uh, maybe over the weekend you, me and Elyan can grab lunch.  Lance and Percy too.”

 

“Oh,” Gwaine echoed.  He pulled away from the door, standing up straight.  “Yeah. Sounds good.”

 

“Gwaine,” Merlin said.  “Are we okay?”

 

“Yeah, of course.  I’ll see you around, Merlin.”  He offered one more small wave.  With that, Gwaine left. He didn’t look back this time.

 

Arthur let out a long whistle.  “That was cold, Merlin. I’m almost impressed.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I am,” he said.  “A bit confused, though.  Are you straight?”

 

Merlin sighed.  He was about to go on a rant about how, no he wasn’t straight, but just because he was gay didn’t mean he was interested in whoever asked him out, not all gay guys wanted to have sex with each other.  

 

Before he could, though, Arthur said, “Gwaine’s gorgeous.  Does he have bad breath, or something?”

 

Merlin was pleasantly surprised.  Most straight guys wouldn’t admit to finding other men good looking.  He backpedaled on his rant. “Gwaine’s great,” he said, “but he’s just a friend.”  He paused, thinking. “And it would be unprofessional, wouldn’t it? To date someone you work with.”      

 

Arthur looked unconvinced, but he didn’t push it.  

 

***

 

“Merlin, great news!  I’m in a coma!”

 

Merlin groaned.  Arthur had disappeared shortly after filming.  Merlin hoped he was gone for good, but evidently not.  He stepped out of his bedroom only to be greeted by the blond’s presence once again.  It was just as surprising and unwelcome as the first time. “I’m at Mercy Hospital. It’s only two hours away.  When do you want to go?”

 

Merlin stared at him.  “No.”

 

Arthur opened his mouth, no doubt to argue.  

 

The sound of the doorbell interrupted him.  Thank gods. Merlin left Arthur without another word and opened it.

 

“Elyan?”  Arthur had followed Merlin to the door.  He hung at his shoulder, like an annoying, chatty shadow that never left.  “What’s Elyan doing here?”

 

“Hey, Elyan,” Merlin greeted.  “Come on in.”

 

“Hey, Merlin.  You said you had something to show me?”

 

“Yeah!  I found a great place for you and Gwaine to investigate.”  He led Elyan into the kitchen where his laptop sat open at the table.  He and Elyan sat down in front of it, and Merlin showed him a page on an old hospital that was said to be haunted.

 

“Wrong hospital,” Arthur was saying.  “We want Mercy Hospital, Merlin, come on!”  

 

Merlin ignored him.  

 

But of course, ignoring Arthur didn’t make him go away.  Rejection didn’t do the trick for most ghosts, and he wasn’t surprised it didn’t do the trick for Arthur Pendragon.  He was already proving to be one of the most stubborn ghosts Merlin had ever had the misfortune of dealing with.

 

He was still. Talking.

 

“You know,” he said, “it’s kinda messed up for you to talk to Elyan about an allegedly-haunted hospital, like the two of you aren’t sitting in an actual, real life haunted house right now.  Why not just tell him the truth? Ghosts are real, Elyan! End of story, we can all go home now. He can quit this endless pursuit of the supernatural and rest easy knowing he was right all along.  Why show him an old hospital where you know he’s not going to find anything? Are you trying to be cruel?”

 

He paused, thinking.  “No, you’re not the type.  So why…”

 

He trailed off.  Merlin was watching Elyan as he skimmed through the article.  His eyelashes were so thick, they cast little shadows over his cheeks.  And his jaw worked in that way it did whenever he was doing research. He was beautiful.  

 

“Oh,” Arthur gasped.  “Oh, you like Elyan! You like Elyan, but he has a girlfriend, so this is your pathetic way of trying to spend more time with him!”  Arthur was on a roll. He sounded just as passionate as Elyan got about conspiracy theories, and unfortunately for Merlin, he was much more accurate.  

 

Merlin shot a glare at Arthur, silently screaming at him to shut up.  

 

Arthur ignored him.  “No wonder you turned Gwaine down.  You wouldn’t have much chance with Elyan after dating his friend.  Now, that _would_ be unprofessional!”           

 

Arthur was cackling now.  Merlin could kill him, if he weren’t already dead.  

 

“This is really cool.”  Elyan broke Merlin out of his silent conversation with Arthur.  “Can you send it to me?”

 

“Absolutely.”  He aimed a smile back at Elyan, hoping he didn’t look as aggravated as he felt.  

 

“Great.  Thanks, man.  I wish I could stay longer, but I’m having dinner with Freya and her parents tonight.”  He mimed a motion like he was slitting his throat. “Makes me wish I was a ghost, just so I could get out of it.”

 

Arthur huffed, looking put out.  Merlin didn’t think ghosts were so sensitive.  

 

“Oh, man.  Good luck,” Merlin said.  “And hey, I talked to Gwaine the other day about all of us maybe grabbing lunch over the weekend, so…”

 

“Oh, sounds great,” Elyan said.  “Where at?”

 

“Well, we haven’t made any concrete plans yet.  But keep your weekend open, yeah?” He walked Elyan to the door and pulled it open for him.

 

“Yeah,” Elyan said.  “Text me about it.”

 

“Will do.  See you.”

 

“See you.”

 

Merlin closed the door behind him.  He slumped down against it and let out the breath he’d been holding.

 

Arthur laughed at him.  “You’ve got it bad.”

 

“Fuck off.”  

 

***

 

The rest of the night didn’t get much better.  Arthur wasn’t giving up on going to Mercy Hospital.  He bribed, threatened, and cajoled Merlin every way he knew how.  And, as Merlin would discover, that was a lot of ways.

 

“You’re like an ex that won’t go away,” Merlin said.  “Just move on already!”

 

Merlin wished his mom was around.  If there was anyone who could help the most obnoxious spirit in the world, it would’ve been her.  

 

Arthur wanted Merlin to help him reconnect his soul with his body.

 

As in, he wanted Merlin to wake him up from his coma.  He refused to complete his unfinished business, which meant he would never move on and find peace.  He was too afraid of scaring his fiance to try to communicate with her directly.

 

Merlin could relate to that fear, at least.  He didn’t communicate with anyone directly, these days.  Every relationship he had was built on a fragile pyre of tricks and lies of omission.  Every single person who knew the truth about Merlin was gone now. He lost touch with the sorcerers he used to practice with.  And his mom…

 

Everyone was gone.  All the people in his life now were normal.  He couldn’t tell any of his friends the truth about him.  He was too afraid they wouldn’t be able to handle it.

 

In a strange way, he almost felt relieved to have Arthur around, if only because Merlin could be honest with him about who and what he was.  He hadn’t realized how lonely he truly was until he had someone around to remind him what a real connection felt like. It was almost worth the aggravation of dealing with the most annoying prat he’d ever met, just to have that feeling back.

 

Almost.

 

“I’m not getting involved,” he said.  “You’re asking me to take a spirit that’s already moving on and force it back into its body.  Necromancy is wrong. It’s desecration; it’s a total perversion of the natural progression of life.”  And it was dangerous.

 

“So what?” Arthur said.  “People already preserve life to an unnatural degree.  I mean, aren’t I _un_ living proof of that?  We already have life support and stem cell research, why not add good old fashioned necromancy to the mix?”

 

Merlin stared at him.  “You did not just compare stem cell research to necromancy.”

 

Finally, Arthur broke.

 

“Please,” he said.  “Just come to Mercy Hospital with me.  The doctors say I’m in stable condition.  When you see how well I’m doing, and how healthy I look, I know you’ll change your mind.  And if you don’t, then I promise I’ll drop the subject forever. You’ll never hear from me again.”

 

Merlin sighed.  Maybe it was the look in his eyes or the desperate edge in his voice: the way he clung to life even after it was ripped away from him.  For whatever reason, in that moment, Merlin found himself wanting to help Arthur. “I’m not going to change my mind,” he said. “...But I guess one visit couldn’t hurt.”

 

Just like that, Arthur was back.  He smiled with all the force of the sun.  “Thank you!” Without thinking, he threw his arms around Merlin.

 

When they actually touched, Arthur gasped.   _He must fall through everyone else,_ Merlin thought, with a grim sort of amusement.  “I can touch you?”

 

Merlin shrugged.  “I have the sight.  Which also means I have the taste, smell, hearing, and touch.”  He poked Arthur’s arm for effect.

 

Once again, Arthur threw his arms around him.  Merlin let him.

 

After a minute, Arthur pulled away, looking flushed.  “Sorry,” he said, tucking his arms around himself like he was ashamed of the hug.  “It just, almost feels like being alive again.”

 

Merlin laughed a little at that.  He already thought Arthur was one of the most alive ghosts he’d ever come across.  

 

Arthur’s smile turned thoughtful.  “I wonder…”

 

When he reached out to Merlin this time, he only placed a hand on his arm.  

 

And the touch only lasted a second.  When he let go, Merlin looked past him and saw that they were no longer in his apartment.  Beige walls and fabric couches were replaced with white walls and antiseptic counters. He knew where they were without Arthur needing to tell him.  Fucking Mercy Hospital.

 

Merlin gasped.  “You _apparated_ me?”

 

Arthur at least had the sense to look guilty.  “To be fair,” he said, “I didn’t think that trick would actually work.  I promise I’ll warn you next time,” he added.

 

“No next time!”

 

“Okay,” Arthur said.  “Where do we stand on possessing people?”

 

“No possessing people!” Merlin said.  “Now, where’s your room?” He was ready to get this visit over with.

 

Arthur nodded ahead of them.  Merlin followed his gaze and realized they were standing right in front of a hospital room.  

 

“Whoa,” he said, despite himself.  He didn’t like Arthur apparating him, but he had to admit, his aim was spot on.

 

Arthur grinned.  “Impressed?”

 

“No.”  Yes. Merlin didn’t even have to check in with suspicious hospital staff.   _Uh, no ma’am, I’m not an immediate family member.  I’m, uh -- what’s the layman’s term? I’m a psychic, and Arthur’s spirit called out to me in the form of an annoying, blond prick._  

 

He pushed those thoughts aside and entered the hospital room without preamble.

 

He froze when he saw the sight before him.

 

Oh, Arthur.

 

Lying on the hospital bed, he looked so… still.  His body was lax. His eyes were shut, and his face was pallid under the fluorescent hospital lighting.  Arthur was wrong. He didn’t look well at all. The Arthur lying in that hospital bed looked more ghostly than the one standing beside him.

 

Unexpectedly, Merlin felt his breath catch in his throat.  The dissonance between this Arthur and the Arthur he knew was so startling.  In that instant, he almost felt like he was seeing a friend in the hospital, not just some obnoxious spirit that he’d known for less than forty-eight hours.

 

He didn’t even notice the other person in the room until she spoke.  “Oh. Hello. Who are you?”

 

“Oh, shit,” Arthur said.  “I didn’t think she’d still be here this late.”

 

A woman sat in the chair beside Arthur’s hospital bed.  Merlin could see the diamond ring on her finger from where he stood at the door.  

 

So, this was the fiance.


	3. Chapter 3

…She wasn’t what he expected. Merlin wasn’t sure what he expected, to be honest. Someone who spent her nights at home, for starters, getting her beauty rest or throwing lavish dinner parties with olive martinis and finger sandwiches. Certainly not someone who spent the night in a rigid hospital chair just to be near Blondie McPratty. He expected someone blunt and pretentious and… stepford-esque.

But Gwen was just the opposite. If Merlin had to use one word to describe the woman looking at him, it would be “soft.” She had brown curls that fell around her face, framing her big brown eyes. Her flowy sundress held the only spots of color in that entire bleak hospital room: hues of reds and blues and yellows. And she was smiling at him, even as she was clearly struggling to keep her eyes open.

...Actually, he realized with a start, he’d probably woken her up from a much-needed nap when he barged into her fiance’s room in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Merlin.”

“I’m Gwen,” she said. With a clear effort, she pulled herself out of her chair and walked up to offer him a hand. He took it. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “How did you know Arthur?”

“Tell her you worked with me.”

“I worked with him,” Merlin said. He rambled on, before she could ask about his imaginary job in business or public relations or whatever Arthur was in charge of. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“‘Loss?’” Arthur repeated. “You make it sound so final. I’m not dead, Merlin; I’m in a coma. It’s an important distinction.”

Merlin tried not to glare at him. Why did ghosts have to make it so hard for you to act like a normal person around other living people?

Also, why did he attract the most annoying ghosts? He just met Gwen, and he already liked her so much better than Arthur. He’d much rather be stuck with Gwen’s spirit for company; why couldn’t _she_ have been the one to fall into a coma?

Of course, the moment he had _that_ thought, he wanted to hit himself over the head for being so insensitive. Seeing the dead could make you think up some macabre thoughts. No wonder he was still single. He was like a mean Jennifer Love Hewitt.

Gwen smiled at him. “Thank you.” She walked over to where Arthur’s body lay on the bed. “I keep waiting for him to wake up and be Arthur again. But he never does. Still, I haven’t lost hope. Everytime I walk into this room, I can feel Arthur here with me, somehow. I know he’s not really gone.”

Arthur rushed to her side. “I am here, Gwen.” He reached out a hand to her.

It fell right through.

“Just seeing him here, still breathing, is enough to keep me going. His presence has been such a comfort in this time.” Gwen sat on the bed beside Arthur’s body and reached for his hand.

The moment Gwen’s hand touched his, Arthur’s spirit disappeared from the room.

***

The rest of Merlin’s visit was a nightmare. Worse than shooting Ghost Getters while Arthur tortured him with humor. Worse than meeting Arthur, period. Merlin spent the rest of his visit struggling to make small talk with Gwen. When she started asking questions about his job in _finance,_ he stuttered out an excuse and left.

Needless to say, the next time Arthur appeared, Merlin wasn’t totally happy to see him.

“I’m sorry okay?” Arthur said. “Obviously, I’m still getting the hang of this whole ghost thing. It’s not easy, you know?”

Merlin sighed. “I understand. You get a pass for being non corporeal.” He didn’t have the heart to yell at the prat right now.

“Oh no,” Arthur said. “You’re being nice to me. That can’t be a good sign.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “I told you I wasn’t going to change my mind.”

Slowly, realization dawned in Arthur’s eyes. He nodded.

Merlin expected more of a fight, but he didn’t get one. Arthur kept his word; he stayed silent on the matter.

On all other matters, though, he was entirely too chatty. He wanted to know everything: if magic was real, then were all the stories he’d heard growing up were real? Were psychics and tarot-card readers for real? Were goblins and werewolves and vampires all real? How about fate and soulmates and wishes on a star, were all those stories real?

Most of the ghosts Merlin met were gloomy and oppressive. But here was Arthur, and Merlin just told him he wouldn’t ever bring him back to life, and the prat was just as bubbly and annoying as ever.

Obviously, he was still hoping Merlin would change his mind. Why else would he be sticking around?

Well, Merlin wasn’t going to change his mind. So, he settled on the next-best way to get Arthur to shut up. “If I show you my magic,” Merlin said, “will you stop asking me questions about magic?”

Arthur nodded, without another word.

And so, Merlin found himself revealing his magic to someone for the first time in… forever. Normally, he’d never consider a prat like Arthur to be someone worth confiding in. He had the biggest mouth of anyone Merlin had ever met, and they barely even knew each other. Merlin didn’t know if he trusted him.

But he figured, since Arthur was a ghost, what was the harm? Not like he could tell anyone else about Merlin.

He led Arthur to his room. They sat in front of an open window that had a perfect view of the night sky. Merlin pointed at the first constellation he could find. “See the Big Dipper?”

Arthur raised a brow. “Are you going to use it to predict the future, or something?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna use it to find the next winning lotto numbers.”

“Really?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No. If I were psychic, I’d be living in a much nicer apartment. I was thinking I’d do something a little more simple. Look.” Merlin sat next to Arthur and pointed out the constellation for him.

“I still don’t see it,” Arthur said. “I’ve always been shit at astrology.”

Sighing, Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his and showed him again. As Arthur watched his own hand connect the stars, he gasped. “I see it!”

“Good,” Merlin said. “Keep watching.” Still with Arthur’s hand in his, he pointed at the stars, but this time he connected them in a new way. He focused on one star and drew it away from the Big Dipper Pattern. He did the same with the next star and then the rest. Slowly, he arranged the stars into a new pattern. A smiley face.

Again, Arthur gasped. When he looked at Merlin, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was something close to admiration, or maybe even reverence.

Whatever delight Arthur felt seeing Merlin’s magic, Merlin knew it was nothing compared to what _he_ felt sharing his magic with someone else. Later on, when Merlin looked back on the moment, he wouldn’t remember the look of delight on Arthur’s face when he saw the stars move beneath Merlin’s touch. He’d remember the way Arthur looked at _him_ afterwards. He’d remember feeling seen, really seen by someone, for the first time since his mom died.

After that night, Arthur’s questions started to veer away from magic and more on the subject of Merlin himself. He wanted to know everything: When did Merlin decide he wanted to work in film? Or, in Arthur’s words, when did Merlin decide he didn’t like money? And why ghost hunting, of all things? Arthur thought Merlin would’ve gotten sick of seeing spirits by now.

“Believe me,” Merlin told him, “I am.”

For all his griping, Merlin was truly surprised that Arthur was still with him. By now, a month had passed since Merlin visited him in the hospital. Was Arthur really so sure Merlin would change his mind and bring him back? “I meant what I said,” Merlin told him one day. “I’m not going to bring you back.”

Arthur didn’t even blink. “I know,” he said.

Merlin kept waiting for him to leave. But he didn’t, and Merlin was strangely… relieved.

Slowly, Merlin started asking Arthur questions about his life in return. He learned that Arthur met Gwen in college, and he fell in love with her the moment he saw her. For Gwen, falling for Arthur had taken… a bit longer, Arthur admitted. Merlin laughed, not at all surprised. Arthur was an acquired taste. He learned that Arthur took control of Uther’s company after he died, and in some ways taking on that responsibility was harder on him than losing his father. He and his father had what Arthur called a _complicated relationship._ Out of everyone in his family, Arthur was closest with his sister; they had practically raised each other.

Merlin asked why Arthur worked so hard to please his father when their relationship sounded like it was frayed at best and toxic at worst. Arthur was quiet for a long time. For a moment, Merlin worried he had crossed some invisible barrier and made Arthur uncomfortable. But when Arthur spoke, he didn’t sound mad or offended; he just sounded thoughtful. “I want to say that taking over his company was the noble thing to do. But honestly? I think I was afraid of going after what I really wanted, and failing.”

Merlin asked what he would’ve rather done instead. Arthur said he wanted to be a writer when he was younger.

Months passed. Slowly, they fell into a kind of routine. Arthur came to work with him and continued to make side commentary. He came to lunches and parties with the rest of the crew and made conversation no one but Merlin could hear. He got to know Merlin’s friends outside of work, like Will and Daegael and Elena. Soon, he started to greet them like old friends whenever they came by.

Other times, on nights with just the two of them, they watched movies and listened to music and talked about their lives, almost like they were friends themselves. Merlin might have thought to be alarmed by how easily Arthur fit into his life, if only he weren’t so relieved by his presence. Arthur filled a space in Merlin’s life that had been sorely neglected ever since his mom passed: he was a friend and an ally and a confidante. Quickly, he became a semi permanent, undead fixture in Merlin’s life.

On one of those nights with just the two of them, Arthur finally asked the dreaded question. “Who’s that?” He was looking at an old framed picture on Merlin’s side table. It hurt to look at, but Merlin couldn’t bear to put it away.

“My mom,” Merlin answered. Arthur opened his mouth, no doubt to ask why Merlin’s mom had never called or visited in all the time since Arthur started haunting him. Merlin anticipated the question and answered it on his own. “She died last fall.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. “I never met my mom; she died in childbirth. How did yours pass?”

Merlin hesitated. This was the part of the story he usually lied about. But Arthur already knew his biggest secret. Merlin decided to tell him the truth. “She was trying to bring my dad back from the dead.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Oh, no. Arthur had that look of sympathy on his face that Merlin was so tired of seeing. He’d gotten enough of it at her funeral. He waited for the usual words of condolence.

Arthur sighed. “I wish you had told me earlier; now I feel like a dick for asking you to bring me back.”

Merlin laughed -- a real laugh that made his shoulders shake and his smile split his face. He had expected Arthur to say, ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or, ‘She’s in a better place.’ He forgot that Arthur was nothing if not original.

“How’d your dad die?” Arthur asked. “I don’t see any pictures of him here.”

“In a hospital.” Merlin shrugged. If Arthur’s relationship with his father was complicated, Merlin’s relationship with his own father was nonexistent. He left when Merlin was a child. Merlin didn’t see him again until many years later, when he showed up in the middle of the night to tell Merlin’s mom he was sick. “I guess he thought Mom would have a magical cure for him. But she didn’t. Magical healing only goes so far, and Dad was too sick to help.

“After he died, she performed the ritual to bring him back. It was too much for her.” Merlin swallowed. “I didn’t even know she was planning on doing the ritual until I found her a few days later.”

“Whoa,” Arthur said.

“Yeah.” Merlin’s mouth was dry. “I think she did it for me. Mom kept saying I deserved to have a father in my life. The funny thing is, growing up, I never really missed my dad. How could I? The man was basically a stranger to me.” He scoffed, “My mom died trying to bring back someone I didn’t even like. I wish I could go back and tell her she was enough, you know?”

Beside him, Arthur looked at Merlin with a certain intensity that made Merlin pause. A nervous flutter bloomed in his stomach. Had he overshared? “Anyway,” he added, quickly, “sorry to dump that whole sob story on you.” He turned away from the picture and Arthur, ready to drop the subject forever.

“Don’t,” Arthur said. Merlin turned back to him. “Don’t be sorry.” Arthur still had that intense look in his eye as he gazed at Merlin. He looked like he was seeing Merlin for the first time. “I know I said so already, but I promise I’ll never ask you to bring me back again.”

“Okay,” Merlin said. He could think of nothing else to say. When had Arthur gotten so close? His hand rested on Merlin’s arm, like an anchor keeping him in place. “I believe you,” he added. Then, “Do you want to watch the Matrix tonight?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears. He broke Artur’s hold and headed for the TV.

“Sure,” Arthur said. He sat beside Merlin on the couch. Merlin tried not to notice the way their legs brushed. It was a touch that shouldn’t have been possible -- the way ghosts and magic shouldn’t have been possible. He tried not to notice the way Arthur made his magic feel less like a fact of life and more like a miracle.

 

 

 

 

One day, he asked Arthur how Gwen was. He smiled. “She’s good, I think. My sister’s been there for her. She’s visiting me less, she’s spending more time with her friends… I really think she’s going to be okay.”

“You’re not sad that she’s visiting you less?” Merlin always thought the worst part of being a ghost must be the everlasting loss. Ghosts watched all their loved ones move on without them. The loss was why spirits turned malevolent; they couldn’t handle it. Yet another reason why spirits were supposed to move on and find peace.

Then again, Arthur was constantly proving himself to be the exception to every rule Merlin lived by. “No,” he said, “I’m happy. I love Gwen. I don’t want her to spend the rest of her life grieving me.” Again, he smiled. “Funny you should ask me about her now. Yesterday was supposed to be our wedding day.”

Merlin stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

Arthur shook his head. “I thought I would be sad about it. I thought she would be sad. But when I visited her, she didn’t seem sad. She seemed peaceful, like she accepted our fate. Almost like she was ready to move on.”

Merlin’s life was starting to feel… normal. Or, as normal as someone like Merlin could get, anyway.

Things were even back to normal with Gwaine. He recovered from Merlin’s rejection rather quickly. They were already back to their usual dynamic. He and Merlin were friends, and Merlin did his best to play mediator between him and Elyan.

One day, after a particularly heated discussion over whether psychics exist, the crew decided to take five and Elyan went outside for some air.

Arthur nudged Merlin with a sly, conspiratorial look. “Now’s your chance. You could go after him and see if he’s okay -- if you wanted to be totally obvious about your feelings.”

Merlin didn’t go after him. He didn’t understand why, but he didn’t feel the same strange pull towards Elyan anymore. He still had feelings for him, for sure, the feelings were just… different than they had once been. Less pressing.

He turned to Gwaine instead. “You know,” he said, “you don’t always have to play the cynical skeptic, just to get a rise out of him.”

Gwaine smirked at him, raising a brow. “Who says I’m playing? Besides, I like getting a rise out of him. You ever notice how he stutters when he’s flustered?” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Then again, I might’ve gone too far this time. Maybe I should go after him.”

“Maybe you should,” Merlin said. “You know, you might have better luck talking to him if you meet him halfway.” He gave Gwaine a considering look. “What _do_ you believe in?” Beside him, Arthur cocked his head, equally curious.

Gwaine was looking past Merlin. He had a glint in his eye that was uncharacteristic on his usually teasing face. “I don’t know,” he said. “Nothing.”

Merlin followed Gwaine’s gaze to the door. Elyan had just come back.

When Merlin looked back at Gwaine, he was still staring. He was too far gone to notice the look of shock on Merlin’s face. “Oh my gods,” Merlin said.

“Oh, my God,” Arthur echoed.

“What?” Gwaine said.

“‘I don’t know; nothing,’” Merlin mimicked.

Gwaine finally dragged his gaze away from Elyan and back to Merlin. Apparently, Elyan wasn’t the only one who stuttered when he was flustered. “I -- I don’t know what you’re -- what you’re implying…”

Arthur cheered and whooped in the background. “So the skeptic falls in love with the believer.” He went to clap a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder, surely out of some fraternity-ingrained instinct that carried over into the afterlife.

The real shock came when his hand hit Gwaine with a resounding thud. Arthur gasped. Gwaine flinched.

The surprise Merlin felt when he realized Gwaine’s feelings for Elyan was forgotten, overshadowed by this extraordinary revelation. “Gwaine?” Merlin said. “You okay?” Could Gwaine actually feel Arthur’s presence, this entire time?

Gwaine shook his head, but Merlin could tell the gesture wasn’t in answer to his question. It was more like Gwaine was trying to physically shake away Arthur’s presence. His eyes were squeezed shut. Merlin could practically see the headache blooming behind them. “I’m fine,” he said. “I get cold flashes sometimes.” He opened his eyes and smiled at Merlin. _All is well,_ the smile said. _Nothing to see here._

“Huh,” Merlin said. Had Gwaine really just happened to get a cold flash the moment Arthur touched him? Gwaine was the last person Merlin would ever suspect of having magic. Believing that Gwaine’s reaction had been a coincidence was an easier pill to swallow than believing that Gwaine’s role as the skeptic had been a mere act all along. Then again, Merlin wasn’t a big believer in coincidences. He took a second look Gwaine over, checking for any charms or tattoos he hadn’t noticed before.

He paused at Gwaine’s neck. He always wore a necklace tucked beneath his shirt. “Gwaine,” he said, “could I get a better look at that necklace?”

When he met Gwaine’s eye again, he was smirking. Merlin realized with a start that to any ordinary person, Merlin didn’t appear to be checking Gwaine out for mysterious charms or tattoos. He appeared to just be checking him out.

“Smooth,” Arthur teased.

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Gwaine pulled out the necklace and showed it to him.

Just as Merlin suspected, it was black onyx, a natural repellant. Some witches and sorcerers wore it to suppress their powers. They did so for many reasons: to stay sane in a world of people that didn’t see what they saw, to keep from revealing their abilities to those who would see them burned at the stake, to avoid any unfortunate run-ins with spirits of the evil kind -- or worse yet, the annoying kind. Merlin had almost bought a charm for himself, the day he met Arthur.

The charm wouldn’t keep Gwaine completely untouched from the supernatural. It was more like a pair of noise-cancelling headphones: it would muffle the worst of it, so that Gwaine couldn’t see ghosts or cast spells or have prophetic dreams. But it couldn’t protect him from a ghost as intrusive as Arthur; it couldn’t protect him from feeling something when a spirit was so bold as to reach out and touch him.

“Have you always worn that?” Merlin asked.

“Yeah.” Gwaine tucked it back into his shirt. “I used to have nightmares as a kid. Mom gave it to me to ward off ‘bad energy.’ I never really believed in it, but I wear it for sentimental reasons. It’s the one thing I have from home that’s tied to a good memory.” He shrugged then, the way he always did when he talked about his family. Merlin was reminded of his head shaking. Perhaps Gwaine was trying to physically shrug away the bad memories. “Don’t tell Elyan,” he added. “Bastard would have a field day if he knew.”

“Don’t tell Elyan what?” Speak of the devil. Elyan appeared at Gwaine’s shoulder, looking soothed after his break.

Gwaine turned to Elyan, letting out a sigh. “This is going to be hard to say. Elyan, I have something to tell you…” He paused, letting the tension build. Elyan leaned forward, wide eyed and curious. “While you were gone, we saw a ghost!” Gwaine waved his arms and widened his own eyes for dramatic effect.

Elyan stuttered. “You -- you’re not funny,” he said. All the calm he managed to gain from his break was gone. “If you ever get haunted for real, I’m not gonna believe you. And I’m not gonna help you get rid of the spirit!” he said.

Gwaine preened, satisfied with getting a reaction from him. _So much for meeting Elyan halfway,_ Merlin thought, with some amusement. “Elyan,” Gwaine said, feigning a solemn look, “I promise I will never come to you for help with getting rid of a spirit.”

Arthur looked miffed. “Why get rid of the spirit?” he griped. Merlin laughed.

***

Arthur still disappeared from time to time. Merlin never asked him where he went. He figured Arthur was off haunting the people he’d actually known back when he was alive. So, Merlin didn’t worry when he didn’t see Arthur that morning.

But then the day passed, and Arthur had yet to come back. Merlin didn’t worry when Arthur was gone that morning. He didn’t worry when Arthur made no appearance at Ghost Getters. He didn’t worry much when Arthur didn’t come find him at lunch with Gwaine and Elyan. But when he got home, and the sky began to darken, and there was still no sign of Arthur, Merlin started to worry.

What if Arthur never came back?

Maybe he had finally done his unfinished business. Or maybe something worse happened. Ghosts were mysterious things. Even people like Merlin weren’t privy to all their secrets. No one really knew what happened to the soul as it aged. And Arthur had been walking the earth as a ghost for five months now.

What if Arthur was really gone? What if he was gone, not to find peace, but to rot as a decomposed soul somewhere? What if he just disappeared, never to return?

Merlin was pacing in his front room when a voice made him jump. “Merlin? What are you doing?”

“Arthur!” There he was, in all his blond glory. Merlin ran up to him and threw his arms around him, just to make sure he was real.

The touch was as reassuring as an old blanket, or a safety net. He was as alive as the first day Merlin met him. “You git,” Merlin said. Finally, he pulled back to scold Arthur more effectively. “I thought you were gone.”

Arthur frowned. “What, you thought I just left?”

“I don’t know; you’ve never been gone that long before. I thought maybe you disappeared for good this time.”

“Really?” Arthur was looking at him intently. Slowly, a grin overtook his face. Merlin was starting to think he made a mistake of some kind. He took a step away from Arthur, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Sorry,” Arthur said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” He was still grinning.

“You didn’t worry me,” Merlin said.

“Oh?” Arthur said. “So that was some relaxed pacing you were doing when I came in. Okay.”

Merlin stuttered. He could feel his heart falter in his chest. “I wasn’t worried about you,” he said. “I mean, okay, I was worried. But I wasn’t -- I wasn’t worried about you.”

“What’s the difference?” Arthur cocked his head; he looked amused.

“The difference is I -- I was worried about you as much as I would be worried about any spirit that disappeared on me.”

“Really?” When had Arthur gotten so close to him? Merlin didn’t even notice the apartment around them anymore; the only image in his eye line was Arthur, like the rest of the world disappeared around them.

He was too close. “Really,” Merlin said. “So -- so I think it’s time for you to face the inevitable.”

Those words sent Arthur reeling back. “‘The inevitable?’” he repeated. “You mean my unfinished business?”

“Yes.” What? No. Merlin didn’t mean what he said, and he wanted to take the words back, and he didn’t feel nearly as relieved by the sudden distance between them as he should. He didn’t feel relieved by it at all.

He’d only wanted Arthur to step away from him. He didn’t want Arthur to complete his unfinished business and leave him forever. Arthur had been coming too close, and he was looking at Merlin like he was about to change everything between them.

So much had changed already. Right now, everything in Merlin’s life felt perfect, or as close to perfect as he could get. Merlin didn’t feel alone anymore: he had Arthur, his friend and confidante and… probably the most important person in his life.

But everything felt so delicate. Every relationship Merlin had was built on a pyre of tricks and lies, and here was Arthur, the human equivalent of a flaming match. Here was Arthur, the most alive, destructive, genuine person Merlin had ever known. Arthur, the undead fixture in Merlin’s life. Arthur, who had somehow taken Merlin’s life apart and rearranged it so that he became the sole point of attention.

He was afraid of what Arthur could do to his life if he wanted. He was afraid of what he would let him do.

Arthur was staring at him again, but not at all like he had just moments ago. Every trace of amusement was gone from his face. He looked like Merlin had just suckerpunched him. “Are you being serious?”

“I--” Merlin didn’t know what to say. His heart was beating so hard, he could barely even hear his own thoughts. “Souls are tricky things,” he said, clinging to what he knew and ignoring what he felt. “There’s so much we don’t know about them. We don’t know what happens to a wandering soul as it ages. But I’ve never met a ghost that was more than a few years old,” he admitted.

Arthur’s face darkened as he processed that news. “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked.

Because his presence in Merlin’s life had become alarmingly permanent. Because Merlin had just paced the entirety of his small apartment as he agonized over what might’ve happened to him. Because he couldn’t bear it if Arthur never found peace, and he couldn’t bear it if he got any closer to someone living on borrowed time. Not even living. “Because I was waiting for you to decide you were ready to move on. But now I’m starting to realize that’s a choice you might never make on your own.”

Slowly, Arthur nodded. He seemed to be taking this news harder than he’d taken the news of his own death. He looked crestfallen. “So,” he said, “all this time we’ve spent together… You were just waiting for me to move on.”

No! “Well,” Merlin said. “You’re a ghost, Arthur. Moving on is kind of what ghosts do.” Oh gods, what was he saying? He didn’t want Arthur to go; Arthur going was the opposite of what he wanted.

But what did that mean? What did he expect from Arthur -- to stay and haunt him for the rest of his life? To be his eternal, live-in, undead boyfriend?

Arthur wasn’t even gay. And that was just the start of their problems.

“Fine,” Arthur said. “Then, maybe I will.”

Merlin thought he might be sick. “You will?”

Arthur looked much the same. “Goodbye, Merlin.”

And then he disappeared, just as quickly as he came.


	4. Chapter 4

The house was so quiet without Arthur.  Quiet like a graveyard, Merlin thought, with a sad, grim sort of amusement.  It was a funny comparison because Merlin literally felt like someone had just died.  That someone being Arthur. Who was already dead. Merlin made a sound that was a cross between a giggle and a scream.  

****

Merlin felt like an idiot.  He sat in his front room after Arthur left.  He waited for Arthur to maybe, possibly, hopefully come back, and he felt like such a fucking idiot.  He replayed their fight over and over in his head. He thought about rushing to the hospital to try and stop Arthur.  

****

He didn’t.  Arthur deserved to move on and find peace.  If he really wanted to go, Merlin wouldn’t stop him.  He wasn’t that selfish.

****

Not to mention, Merlin would need to take a bus to get to the hospital on his own, and public transportation was no match for a ghost with apparating powers.  He’d never make it there in time.

****

So maybe he was that selfish.  He just didn’t have the power to stop Arthur, even if he wanted to.

****

So, he waited.  He stayed in the living room all night, waiting for someone who was probably never coming back.  At some point, the exhaustion of worrying must have overcome him. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have, because he woke up to someone shaking his shoulder.    

****

His eyes were blurry from sleep.  He could barely make out the figure hovering above him.  Just a halo of blond hair.  

****

“Arthur?” 

****

“You look terrible.”  

****

Merlin heaved a sigh of relief.  He wrapped a hand around Arthur’s arm on reflex: just to make sure he was real.  “You git.”

****

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.  “I didn’t mean to worry you.”  He tried to sound amused, but the words fell flat after their fight.

****

Merlin held on tighter.  “You did. Okay? More than any other ghost would have.  So, if you’re done trying to make your point…” He sat up and motioned to the other side of the couch for Arthur to sit.

****

Arthur took it.  His voice was soft when he spoke.  Merlin wondered if he, too, could feel the quiet that had descended on the house in his absence.  “Do you want to know where I went today?” _Today._   So morning hadn’t come yet.  Arthur wasn’t gone all night, just a few hours.  Merlin wasn’t sure why that realization made him feel better.  They weren’t boyfriends; Arthur was allowed to be gone all night if he wanted.    

****

“Yes,” Merlin said, ignoring his stupid thoughts. 

****

“I was following my sister.  Since I’ve been in a coma, she’s taken on my responsibilities as head of the family company.  I expected her to be as miserable with the job as I was, but she’s not miserable. She actually seems really happy.  Makes sense, I guess. She’s always been a boss-type. And she’s business-minded. I just never thought…” He broke off, like this next part would be hard to say.  “I always thought that Uther’s company was my burden to take on, as his only son. I never even stopped to consider Morgana might want it for herself.” He paused. “Turns out I was pretty self absorbed when I was alive.”

****

“Nooo.  You? Self absorbed?  Unbelievable.” 

****

Arthur laughed a little.  “I’m sorry about our fight,” he said.  “You were just trying to help, and I completely overreacted.  You’re right: ghosts move on. They don’t stick around forever and haunt some guy they barely know.”

****

Merlin frowned at him.  Maybe his brain wasn’t fully awake yet; his mouth seemed to move on its own.  “‘Barely?’ You know me better than anyone in my life.” 

****

Arthur blinked, looking surprised at that revelation.  Merlin found he was too tired to regret it. “But I’m not in your life,” Arthur said.  “Never have been, and most likely never will be. I was wrong to take up space in your life when I can never be a real part of it.  I’ll find a way to move on; I promise. I’m just… not quite ready yet.” He sighed, looking wistful. “I wish I could go back and do it all differently… Live my life over again right this time.”  

****

Merlin’s voice was tired and slurred.  “What would you do instead?”

****

He could hear the smile in Arthur’s voice, though he couldn’t see it.  While they were talking, his eyes had fluttered shut again. He sat slumped against the couch, and the promise of sleep loomed over him.  He wanted to tell Arthur not to move on. He wanted to tell him he wasn’t wrong to stick around and haunt Merlin. But he was so tired, he couldn’t force the words out.  He didn’t have the energy required to come up with a believable lie for why Arthur should stay. And he couldn’t tell him the truth. “I would’ve been a writer,” Arthur said.  “I would’ve let Morgana take over the family business. And I would’ve let you and Gwaine and Elyan film your show at Uther’s house when you asked.” He nudged Merlin’s foot with his own.  “Then you and I could’ve met while I was still alive.” 

****

“Wouldn’t have worked th’ same way,” Merlin slurred.  “You wouldn’ve noticed the dorky camera guy. I wouldn’t ‘ave gone for a smoke and told you to fuck off.  You wouldn’ve followed me home and haunted me forever.”

****

Well, not forever.  Until he moved on. Arthur didn’t correct him, though.  “Then I’d do everything the same,” he decided. Merlin was too tired to realize the implications behind those words.  Arthur would live his life the same way, mistakes and all, as long as he got to take up space in Merlin’s life even for a short while.  There was a pause. “I would’ve noticed you.”  

****

His voice was so soft Merlin almost didn’t hear it through the fog of sleep that was overtaking him.  When he did hear it, he thought it might’ve been part of a dream. He felt a hand brush a stray hair back from his face and thought, that soft touch must be a dream too.  Arms cradled around him, lifting him off the uncomfortable couch and carrying him toward his room. He felt someone gently deposit him onto his bed and then go so far as to tuck him in.  He thought, _I haven’t been tucked in for the longest time._   And then sleep really did overtake him, and he wasn’t thinking anything. 

****

The next morning, Merlin woke with a start.  He’d dreamed of soft blond hair and a softer voice that whispered promises in his ear.  Promises like, “I would’ve noticed you.” Had Arthur just been a dream? Wildly, he scrambled out of bed and into the living room, searching for that familiar blond head.  “Arthur?”

****

In an instant, he materialized in the middle of the room.  “I’m here.”  

****

Merlin sighed; after everything that happened in the last day, he didn’t have the willpower to hide his relief at having Arthur back.  He rubbed his eyes, willing away the sleep in them. “How much of last night was real?”

****

There was a pause before Arthur answered.  “How much do you remember?”

****

“You spent the day with your sister,” Merlin said.

****

“Oh.  Yeah, that part was real.” 

****

“And you wished you could go back and do everything in your life differently.”

****

Arthur’s voice was softer now.  “Real.” 

****

“Okay.”  Merlin looked at him seriously.  “I’ll do it.”  

****

“What?”

****

“I’ll do the ritual,” he said.  “I’ll bring you back.” 

****

He expected Arthur to cheer and holler, maybe even hug him.  A hug would be nice, he thought, just to confirm Arthur wasn’t part of a dream Merlin was still having.  

****

Arthur didn’t hug him.  He frowned at him. “No, you won’t,” he said.  Merlin started to argue, but Arthur cut him off.  “I told you, I’m not interested in being brought back anymore.  Not now that I know how dangerous the ritual is.”  

****

“Didn’t take you as the cowardly type,” Merlin teased.

****

Arthur wasn’t moved.  “I’m not letting you risk your life for me.” 

****

Merlin made a big show of scoffing.  “Do you really think I’d be offering to do the ritual if I thought the risk was too big?  I’ve thought this whole thing through. I’m more powerful than my mother was, and you’re less dead than my father was.  You’re not even dead, technically, so bringing you back should be a much easier task. I can do it, Arthur. I know I can.” 

****

Arthur was staring at him with a considering look.  Merlin thought maybe he was changing his mind. But when he spoke, he didn’t agree to let Merlin do the ritual.  “Why would you want to?” he said. “What made you change your mind?”

****

Merlin paused, thinking.  “All my biggest regrets are about death,” he said, “and death is absolute; nearly impossible to change.  But all your regrets are about life, and life is much more flexible. If I can wake you up, then you still have the chance to change things for yourself.”  He levelled a look at Arthur. “Can you promise me, if I bring you back, you’ll do better this time?”

****

“I promise,” he said.  “Merlin, are you sure?”

****

“I’m sure.”  He was. Arthur deserved a second chance.  And Merlin… Merlin didn’t want to lose him.

****

The next time Merlin and Arthur went to Mercy Hospital, they went with a plan.  Arthur would make sure his room was empty while Merlin waited outside. Once Arthur gave him the all-clear, Merlin would go in the room and perform the ritual.  Apparating felt just as jolting as the first time. They landed in the same spot in front of the door.  

****

However, one crucial difference between this time and last time was that this time, the door was open, and Gwen noticed Merlin right away.

****

She didn’t scream bloody murder, so Merlin was hopeful that she didn’t notice him appear in the hospital out of thin air.  But she certainly saw him now. “Merlin!” 

****

Shit, Merlin thought.

****

“Shit,” Arthur said.  “We really need to work on our strategy.”  

****

Merlin silently agreed.  He knew they should’ve come up with a Plan B.  Oh, well. He would just have to improvise and above all, not let on to Gwen how panicked he was to see her.

****

“Gwen!” he trilled, coming into the room.  “Great to see you again.”  

****

“Calm down,” Arthur said.  “You’re standing in front of my hospital bed, not running into her at the local mall.”

****

“Of course, I wish the circumstances were different,” Merlin said.  Gwen nodded. Arthur was right: she looked much better than the last time Merlin saw her.  She was standing upright, for starters, not hunched over herself on a chair. And the smile she gave Merlin was much less strained than last time.  She looked well-rested and healthy and even happy. Certainly not over-the-moon happy, because, like Arthur said, they were currently standing in front of her comatose fiance’s hospital bed.  But regular happy. Happy like someone who’d suffered some loss in life, but refused to let the pain of that loss stop her from moving forward.

****

Merlin didn’t even notice the other person in the room until she spoke up.  (He may or may not have jumped in surprise.) “Gwen, are you going to introduce me?”

****

“Morgana,” Arthur supplied.  “My sister.” 

****

“Morgana,” Gwen echoed, “meet Merlin.  He worked with Arthur. Merlin, meet Arthur’s sister, Morgana.” 

****

Like Gwen, Morgana was nothing like he expected.  If Gwen was all soft edges where he’d expected sharp points, Morgana was all darkness where he had expected light.  He could see the likeness between her and Arthur: wide set eyes, a strong jawline, and in between, that aristocratic nose.  But where Arthur was golden blond, she was raven plume; where Arthur was true and earnest, she was inquisitive; where Arthur was pure of heart, she was quick of mind.  Merlin seemed to know these things about her the moment he saw her; she wore her cunning on her sleeve. She was over-dressed for a day spent waiting in a hospital room, with a black pantsuit, two metallic bands on each wrist, and a necklace that dipped just below her shirt collar.  

****

Morgana smiled at him and offered one jewellery-clad hand.  “Pleasure to meet you, Merlin.” As she looked upon him for the first time, she appeared to be sizing him up.  Her even stare made him want to look away, but he had a feeling she was quick to develop opinions about people, and looking away would mean failing a test of some kind.

****

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said.  Morgana’s smile widened in what he hoped was approval.  Beside him, Arthur looked pleased.  

****

“Nice of you to visit again,” Gwen said.  “You left so quickly last time, I was worried we wouldn’t see you again.”  Merlin noticed the way she said ‘we’ and not ‘I.’ Of course, she was referring to herself and Arthur.  Her fiance. Merlin felt an unexpected pang in his chest. He couldn’t decide if it was guilt or disappointment.  Nothing happened between him and Arthur, so technically he had nothing to feel guilty about.  

****

But maybe Merlin wanted something to happen.  That thought made the _guilt/disappointment_ intensify.  Merlin shook it away.    

****

In front of him, Morgana looked like Gwen’s words also sparked a feeling in her: curiosity.  “‘Again?’ You must be a close friend; most of the jerks from work haven’t bothered to visit at all.”

****

“Yeah,” Merlin said.  Suddenly, he sounded unconvincing to his own ears.  

****

Morgana certainly didn’t look convinced.  “We’re waiting to talk to the doctors about Arthur’s condition.  I was about to grab some coffee for Gwen and me,” she said. “Keep me company?”

****

“Sure.”

****

Merlin followed Morgana out of the room, feeling much like a mouse following after a cat.  Arthur hesitated before trailing along behind them. Merlin suspected he wanted to hear what the doctors had to say, but he also didn’t want to leave Merlin alone with Morgana.  He was relieved when Arthur decided the ladder was more important: he also didn’t want to be left alone with Morgana. Her gaze made him feel like he was under a microscope, with all the secrets he kept hidden from the rest of the world totally visible under her probing eye.  

****

They made conversation as they walked to the cafe on the first floor of the hospital.  “So, Merlin. Tell me more about the work you did with Arthur.” 

****

“Tell her you were an accountant at the company,” Arthur said.

****

“I worked as an account at the company,” Merlin repeated.

****

“You handled budgeting and trading between other companies.”

****

“I handled budgeting and trading between other companies.  All the boring stuff,” Merlin added, hoping she’d take the hint and drop the subject.  

****

She didn’t.  “I don’t think that work sounds boring at all; it sounds rather important for the company -- vital, in fact.  I’m surprised I’ve never seen you around at work.” Her tone was light, but it did nothing to hide the heavy accusation in her words.  She knew he was lying about how he knew Arthur.

****

“You were transferred right before my coma.”  

****

“I actually got transferred, just before--”  

****

Morgana cut him off.  Merlin was almost grateful; his voice sounded weak and transparent to his own ears.  “You can cut the crap, please.” Morgana’s voice was clear and certain. “I’m not Gwen.  I don’t see the best in people; I see the truth.” Merlin believed her; those dark eyes of hers glittered with a harsh kind of awareness he’d only ever detected in a few people.  Mostly old sorcerers who lived in caves and wore long white beards. “You didn’t work with Arthur,” she said. Her voice left no room for doubt.  

****

He sidelonged a glance at Arthur.  He looked just as defeated as Merlin felt.  He opened and closed his mouth, as if hoping a retort would magically settle between his lips.  When none came, he settled for shrugging at Merlin helplessly. Merlin could imagine Arthur and Morgana playing chess as kids.  Arthur knew when he was outmatched by his opponent.  

****

Morgana looked unimpressed.  Merlin had a feeling she was used to winning.  

****

“No,” he admitted.

****

“Two large mocha lattes,” she said.  They had gotten to the front of the line now.  Merlin stuttered out his own order, and they walked over to the other end of the counter to wait for their drinks.  “You’re not slick,” she said. Now that he wasn’t lying to her anymore, the fierceness in her voice was gone She almost sounded fond.  “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

****

Raised a man from the dead?  Er, from the comatose? No. “Done what?” 

****

“Had an affair.”  She accused him so casually, you’d think she was asking if he’d ever had the hospital coffee.  

****

Merlin sputtered.  Arthur made an offended sound.

****

“Two mocha lattes.”  The barista handed over Morgana’s order.  She thanked him kindly and dropped her change into the tip jar with a sweet smile.  Merlin had a hard time believing she was the same person who just accused him of having an affair.  His order came shorty after hers. Hazelnut, no cream and extra sugar. He thanked the barista with an awkward smile and got a frown in return.  Face heating, Merlin wished she hadn’t chosen a _coffee shop_ of all places to confront him in.  He looked around for anyone else who could overhear their conversation.  He felt ashamed and self-conscious. 

****

As soon as the barista turned away from them, Merlin leaned close to Morgana and spoke to her in a low voice.  “I’m not having an affair with Arthur.” 

****

“Well, I should hope not anymore,” Morgana said, “given he’s in no state to give consent.”  Was she _teasing him_?

****

Arthur groaned and buried his head in his hands.

****

Morgana kept talking as she led the way back upstairs.  “Don’t blame yourself for giving up his secret. You said all the right things, but I’ve known Arthur my whole life; I know what his type is.”  Wait… Was she saying Merlin was Arthur’s type? Was she saying Arthur wasn’t straight? 

****

Something like hope fluttered in Merlin’s chest.  He stomped it down, reminding himself of where he was and why he wasn’t allowed to feel that way.  A heady concoction was blooming inside him. _Hope, guilt; hope, guilt; hope, guilt._

****

Merlin had a hard time making sense of what Morgana said.  She was acting like the two of them were on the same page, but they really, really weren’t.  Merlin was left with the strangest impression, like he had picked up a random book and started reading it halfway through.  He could pick up the general gist of the story, but he was missing some much needed context. Probably because Morgana as talking to him like he knew Arthur -- and apparently, Merlin really didn’t.   

****

As for Arthur, he wasn’t saying anything at all.  He looked like he wanted to disappear again. Merlin was surprised he didn’t.  He was also grateful; if they were running with the story that Merlin was Arthur’s boyfriend, fine, but he suspected Morgana would still ask him questions that he didn’t have the answers to.  

****

“Nearly everything my brother’s ever done has been for the sake of other people -- especially Uther.  Our father was not a kind man.”

****

Merlin knew about Uther, at least.  From the way Elyan talked about Uther Pendragon, he sounded like a bully and a tyrant.  From the way Arthur talked about his father, he sounded… misguided, but ultimately right and just.  

****

“He was strict and self-righteous and overbearing,” Morgana said.  “I don’t think Arthur knew true happiness or freedom of choice until Gwen.  All his life, Arthur only seemed to care about doing right by our father. But then he met Gwen, and she was kind and generous and sympathetic.  You’ve met her.” Her voice went unexpectedly soft when she talked about Gwen.  

****

“She’s lovely,” Merlin agreed.

****

“The only time I’ve ever seen Arthur stand up to Uther was for Gwen.  Uther didn’t approve of her, of course. Uther didn’t approve of much.  Her family was poor; she didn’t have any money or connections to help his business.  But Arthur told Uther he didn’t care; he was going to be with Gwen, and if Uther didn’t approve, then he could find another son to leave the company to.”  Morgana looked thoughtful. “I think Arthur wanted very much to love her. But there always seemed to be something missing between them. I think Arthur loved what she represented.  But I don’t know if he ever really loved _her.”_

****

“You’re wrong.”  Arthur spoke to Morgana, but of course she wouldn’t answer him back.  She looked at Merlin in that considering way of hers, like she was sizing him up once more.  “Did you make him happy?”

****

Merlin wasn’t sure how to answer that question.  Arthur offered no help; he looked deeply immersed in his own thoughts.  Almost like Morgana’s words had truly gotten to him. But Merlin quickly pushed aside that thought as ridiculous.  Morgana was wrong about the affair. Surely she was wrong about Gwen and Arthur, as well.  

****

He told Morgana, “I thought he was incredible.”  Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either. Merlin hadn’t known Arthur in life, but just from getting to know him these past months, he felt qualified to make that statement.  

****

Arthur was looking at him now.  Evidently, Merlin’s words had pulled him out of his thoughts.  His face was full of an emotion Merlin couldn’t quite read. There was sadness, of course, but there was also something else…  Something true and tender that made Merlin turn away from his gaze.

****

“Good,” Morgana said.  “He deserved to have real love just once in his life.”  They reached Arthur’s room again. Morgana stopped in front of it.  “You’re going to tell Gwen you need to leave to handle a family emergency.  You better take one last look at Arthur, because you won’t be visiting him again.”  The edge was back in her voice. It wasn’t so fierce anymore, but it was assertive enough to leave no room for argument. 

****

Merlin nodded.  “Of course.” He and Arthur would just have to come back another day.  Preferably when there weren’t any witnesses in the waiting room.  

****

As Morgana opened the door, Merlin opened his mouth with the excuse ready.  

****

Instead, what came out was a surprised squawk.  “Elyan?”

****

***

****

“Elyan?” Arthur echoed.  “What the hell is he doing here?” 

****

“Merlin,” Elyan said.  “What are you doing here?”  

****

“You two know each other?” Gwen said.  She was looking at Merlin with a raised brow.  The inquiring look was a bold contrast to her usual congenial demeanor.  

****

Morgana cleared her throat. 

****

“Um,” Merlin said.  “I have a family emergency--” 

****

Morgana, understandably, came to the conclusion that Merlin wasn’t a good enough liar to make a smooth exit on his own.  “Merlin unfortunately needs to get going.” There was that imperious quality in her voice again, the one that left no room for argument.  Merlin found himself feeling grateful for it. He needed to get out of here, now, before Elyan started asking questions he couldn’t answer.   

****

“Oh,” Gwen said.  “Too bad. Nice seeing you again, Merlin.  I hope you come by again soon.” She smiled at him, but there was a question in her eyes.  Merlin knew he hadn’t made a clean exit, even with Morgana’s help. Gwen had enough social graces to let Merlin go without anymore questions, but if she saw him again, he wouldn’t get off so easy.  Gwen may have been kind, but Merlin was wise enough not to mistake her kindness for stupidity. Already, she was starting to see the cracks in his story. How did a guy that worked in finance meet a famous Youtuber?  And if Merlin and Elyan were friends, why did they both look so surprised to see each other here? Why was Merlin acting so guilty?      

****

If he was lucky, she wouldn’t come to the same horrible conclusion as Morgana.  Guilt flared in his chest, sharp and painful. He was here to save Arthur’s life, not ruin it.     

****

“You too,” Merlin said.  With a hand on his back, Morgana gently pushed him out the door.  It closed behind him with a soft click.

****

A minute later, it opened again to reveal Elyan.  His brow furrowed in that curious way of his. Ever the intrepid investigator.  “Merlin, what’s going on? You know Arthur Pendragon?”

****

Merlin turned the question back on him.  _“You_ know Arthur Pendragon?”

****

“He does not,” Arthur confirmed.

****

“Only by name,” Elyan said.  “He was my sister’s fiance. We never met.”

****

“You’re Gwen’s brother?”  

****

“Elyan Smith is my fiance’s brother?”  Arthur looked excited for the first time since they entered the hospital.  “Gwen mentioned a brother, but she never said it was Elyan. Oh my God, Elyan Smith would’ve been my brother-in-law.” 

****

“Yes, I am,” Elyan said.  “How do _you_ know her?”  He crossed his arms and looked Merlin square in the eye, waiting.  Like Gwen, Elyan had clearly caught onto how suspicious Merlin was acting.  Merlin knew his friend wouldn’t let him leave without offering some sort of explanation for his strange behavior.  

****

“Um,” Merlin said.  He looked to Arthur, silently begging for help.

****

“Oh shit,” Arthur said.  “Okay, Gwen thinks you worked with me in finance.  But you can’t tell Elyan the same lie, because you work with him for real.  Morgana thinks -- well, _obviously_ you’re not going to tell him what _Morgana_ thinks…” 

****

Elyan cut in before they could get anywhere.  Merlin must have looked as stressed-out as he felt, because Elyan’s voice softened.  He spoke to Merlin in the same comforting tone he used when contacting alleged-ghosts who had died horrible deaths.  “Please, Merlin, stop before you hurt yourself. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears as you try to think of a believable lie.  There’s no need: I know what you’re doing here.” 

****

“You do?”

****

“I don’t think he does,” Arthur said.  Sure, Elyan believed in the supernatural.  But had he really made the leap that his cameraman was here to perform a resurrection? 

****

Well, Merlin thought, if anyone could figure him out, it would be Elyan.  He was one of the smartest, most intuitive people Merlin had ever met. He made connections on unsolved cases that sent message boards reeling with new theories.  Even when Merlin knew him to be wrong about the existence of certain famous “ghosts,” he had to admit all of Elyan’s theories were plausible and downright convincing.  He didn’t have the sight, but he did the best he could with the information he could find for himself. Elyan’s mind -- his quickness, his intelligence, his beliefs so strong they sometimes bordered on obsession -- Merlin was enticed by it just as much as he was threatened by it.  It was one of the many reasons Merlin kept his distance from Elyan, even as he found himself falling for him. If anyone could figure out what Merlin was, it was Elyan.      

****

“I know, Merlin.”  He looked so certain; Merlin believed him.  His head spun with possible bargaining strategies: he could deny, beg for mercy, go into witness protection.  Was witness protection an option for him? Probably not. He was so caught up in the wild thoughts in his head, he almost didn’t hear what Elyan said next.  “You’re following up on a lead.” 

****

“Um. What?”

****

“I understand,” Elyan said.  “I really do. Our viewers loved the Uther Pendragon episode.  They’d probably go crazy for a part-two episode investigating the recent death of his son.”

****

“I’m not dead,” Arthur said.  Normally, he sounded hilariously offended when he reminded people of that fact.  Partly because none of the people he yelled at could actually hear him, and partly because of the way he pouted like a five-year-old.  Now, though, he just sounded tired.   

****

Elyan was still talking, completely oblivious to the existential ghost right in front of him.  He was looking at Merlin sympathetically. “But we can’t do an episode on Arthur,” he said. _“I_ can’t do an episode on Arthur.  Too close to home, you know? I may have never met the guy, but he _was_ my sister’s fiance.”  

****

“Right,” Merlin said.  He decided to take Elyan’s explanation and roll with it.  “I never would’ve come down here if I knew about the connection between you two.”  He wouldn’t have come when Elyan was around, at least.

****

Elyan smiled at him.  “Thanks, Merlin. I’ll see you at work, alright?”

****

“Alright, see you.”  

****

Elyan headed back into Arthur’s room.  The moment he was out of sight, Merlin let out a huge breath.  He relaxed, letting go of the rigid posture he’d maintained under the weight of everyone’s scrutiny.  

****

“Alright,” he sighed, turning back to Arthur, “let’s hurry up and go before someone else shows up that I have to explain myself to.”  This visit had been a disaster. Merlin had to tell three different stories to three different people, none of which made him look particularly good.  Gwen thought he was some douche working in finance; Elyan thought he was sneaking into strangers’ hospital rooms, and Morgana thought he was fucking the recently deceased.  (Or, the recently not-quite-deceased. Whatever.)  

****

Well, he thought wryly, at least Elyan didn’t suspect that Merlin had magic.  He just thought he was really, truly committed to the practice of ghost hunting.  

****

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.  Seconds later, they were back in the apartment. 

****

“Well,” Merlin said, “that was a disaster.” 

****

“Yeah,” Arthur said, “it really was.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you bi?”  Merlin had meant to casually insert the question into conversation.  Instead, he blurted it out in the middle of movie night. They were watching the new Jumanji movie.  Four kids just got sucked into a video game, and all Merlin could think about was what Morgana said at the hospital.  

****

“Yeah,” Arthur said.  “You didn’t know?” He had a strange look on his face.  Almost fond -- like he found Merlin decidedly obtuse -- but in an endearing sort of way. 

****

“You never told me,” Merlin said.  He felt strangely defensive. How was he supposed to know Arthur liked blokes?  He’d never seen Arthur look at a man that way, not even Gwaine or Elyan, and Arthur was a self-proclaimed Ghost Getters fanboy.    

****

“Haven’t I?”  Arthur looked thoughtful.  “What about last week? We played Fuck, Marry, Kill, and I said I’d marry Newt Scamander.”

****

“I thought you were just a really chill straight guy.” 

****

Arthur gave him a look.  After a minute, they both burst into laughter.  All of Merlin’s defences melted away as he goofed around with his friend.  “So, Newt?” Merlin said. “I guess I really am your type.”

****

“Ha!  You wish you looked like Newt Scamander.”  Was Merlin imagining things, or was Arthur blushing?  Merlin didn’t even know ghosts could blush. Arthur cleared his throat.  “So,” he said, “Elyan.”  

****

Merlin groaned.  He wanted to bury his face in a couch pillow.  Anything to cover up the blush creeping up his own face.  “He thinks I sneak into hospital rooms in my spare time.” 

****

“Technically, he’s not wrong.”  Merlin levelled a glare at him; Arthur held up his hands in surrender.  “Honestly,” he added, “he seemed genuinely happy to see you. And I noticed he didn’t have his girlfriend with him.”   

****

“I guess.”  Merlin sighed.  “I don’t know. Maybe I should go for someone more available.  Somehow, waiting around for a guy to break up with his girlfriend isn’t as romantic as you might think.”

****

“Maybe you should.”  Arthur was looking at him intently.  

****

Merlin looked away.  “Gwen and Morgana are close, huh?”

****

“I suppose.”  Arthur didn’t say anything else.  When Merlin looked back at him, he had suddenly become very interested in the movie.   

****

“Must be hard,” Merlin said.  He felt bad. Here Arthur was, helping him work through his Elyan drama, and Merlin hadn’t even stopped to ask how Arthur was dealing with everything.

****

Arthur looked confused.  “What?”

****

“You know.  Your sister having feelings for your fiance.”  

****

Arthur blanched.  “Morgana doesn’t -- she doesn’t have feelings for Gwen.” 

****

Merlin stared at Arthur.  Was he serious?

****

Oh.  He was serious.  

****

Arthur didn’t realize his sister was in love with his fiance.  Merlin was surprised. His Arthur, the same Arthur who caught his crush on Elyan two days after meeting him, couldn’t see his own sister’s feelings for Gwen?  Arthur was a lot of things -- prattish, annoying, tempestuous -- but he wasn’t dense. If he was blind to Morgana’s feelings, then he must have been deep in denial.  

****

“You’re wrong,” Arthur said.  Merlin hadn’t spoken any of his thoughts out loud, but perhaps they showed on his face, because Arthur was sounding even more defensive now.  “Morgana would’ve told me.”

****

“Maybe not,” Merlin said.  “Maybe she wanted you to be happy, even if she wasn’t.”  

****

“No,” Arthur said.  “Me and Morgana aren’t like Gwen and Elyan.  We talk to each other. We’re not just siblings; we’re friends.  That’s the reason she and Morgana are close, not because…” He broke off, like he couldn’t bear to finish that sentence.  Merlin remembered how guilty he was about taking over the company instead of Morgana.  Maybe it was too much for him to handle: the thought he’d taken both the company and the girl Morgana was in love with.

****

“Okay,” Merlin said.  “I believe you. She’s your sister; you know her better than I do.” 

****

Arthur nodded.  They sat in silence for another moment.  Merlin knew Arthur needed a moment to calm down and process everything.  Slowly, Arthur’s breathing slowed back to normal, and he seemed to come back down from whatever whirlwind his thoughts were sending him on.  “Thank you,” he murmured.

****

“No problem.”  Merlin didn’t need to ask what he was thanking him for.  Some things needed to be discussed with oneself, in the comfort of one’s own mind, before they could be spoken aloud among the company of others.  Even friends. Arthur wasn’t ready to think about his sister’s feelings, much less talk about them. Merlin understood.  

****

He meant what he said to Arthur, all those nights ago.  Arthur knew him better than anyone. And he was beginning to feel like he knew Arthur, too.  Merlin may have been incredibly obtuse about some things, but he knew Arthur in an intrinsic kind of way.  From the moment they met, they clicked. They understood each other, like they were tuned into the same wavelength.        

****

The next morning, Merlin woke up in his bed.  He remembered falling asleep on the couch. Arthur must have carried him back there.  He smiled.

****

***

****

This visit to Mercy Hospital was already going better than their first two.  They’d been in the hospital for a grand total of two minutes, and were yet to be discovered by anyone.  Arthur had apparated them a ways away from his room this time. He popped in the room by himself, made sure no one was in there, and then gave Merlin the all-clear.  

****

The only problem they faced now was completing the spell.

****

Merlin approached Arthur’s body on the hospital bed.  Once again, he was struck by how lifeless and vulnerable he looked there.  He didn’t let his gaze linger on Arthur’s face, worried that if he did, he might spiral into his fear of failing, doing the ritual wrong, and losing Arthur forever.  The fear had been plaguing him ever since that day Arthur disappeared, when Merlin was first confronted with the fact that he could leave, forever, and there was nothing Merlin could do to stop him.

****

He shook his fear away and focused on taking the ring off Arthur’s finger. 

****

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked -- the true Arthur that stood at his side, not the lifeless one on the bed.  

****

“It’s the charm for the ritual,” Merlin explained.  “You have to take the essence of the person’s unfinished business and use it to draw the soul back into the body.”  

****

Arthur looked startled.  “That’s what makes the spell work?”

****

“Yeah,” Merlin said.  As he took the ring off comatose-Arthur's finger, he slid a side glance at real-Arthur.  The prat was squirming where he stood. His brow furrowed in a way that made him look uncharacteristically nervous.  “Problem?” Merlin asked.  

****

“Um.”  Arthur shrugged, weakly.  “Probably not.”

****

“‘Probably not?’  Arthur, the whole spell is riding on this charm.”  Arthur said nothing. He didn’t offer any arguments or reassurances.  Merlin’s stomach did flip flops. Arthur’s nervousness was making him nervous.  “The spell will work, okay?” Merlin said. “I can think of no better reason for someone to come back to life than true love.  And you love Gwen; she’s your Buttercup. You have nothing to worry about, Arthur.” He put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and squeezed to reassure him.

****

Arthur didn’t look very convinced.  But he nodded, and he even smiled at Merlin’s movie reference.  “Okay,” he said, “bring me back, Miracle Max.” 

****

Merlin held the ring in one hand and comatose-Arthur’s hand in the other.  He uttered the spell and waited for Arthur to wake up. 

****

Nothing happened.  Not the first time he tried the spell; not the second time, and not the times after.  Arthur lay on the hospital bed, as still as the first day Merlin visited him. The Arthur standing at his side spoke up.  

****

“Merlin--”

****

“I must be doing the spell wrong.” He could have been.  Merlin was a talented sorcerer, but bringing someone back to life was no small feat.  The spell was complex and required a lot of power.

****

Still, to have gotten it wrong five times?  Possible, but very unlikely, and increasingly so with each new try. 

****

“I’m going to try again,” Merlin said.

****

_“Mer_ lin.  It’s not you.  It’s me.”  

****

Merlin joked weakly.  “Are you breaking up with me?”

****

“I’m being serious.”  Arthur sighed. “Maybe Morgana was right.  Maybe I didn’t love Gwen the way I was supposed to.  Maybe I didn’t love her enough.”

****

“Not possible.”  Arthur was the most stubborn, heartfelt, annoyingly spirited person Merlin had ever met.  Merlin imagined everything he did was more than ‘enough.’  

****

When Arthur spoke again, his voice was laced with an emotion Merlin couldn’t place.  He sounded tired, but he also sounded… hopeful? “Maybe I’m not supposed to come back and marry Gwen.  Maybe I’m supposed to be with someone else.”  

****

“Like who?”

****

_“Mer_ lin.”  Now he just sounded tired. 

****

Merlin was getting frantic.  They’d already been there too long.  What if Gwen came in and found him talking to thin air?  What if Morgana came in and found him visiting Arthur again?  They didn’t have time to argue over the charm: they only had time to do the ritual, get Arthur’s soul back in his body, and get Merlin out of there before anyone saw him.  “What am I supposed to do here, Arthur? The charm has to be the ring; your unfinished business has to be Gwen. Because if not, then how am I supposed to bring you back?” 

****

“I don’t know,” Arthur said.  “But Merlin…” He hesitated. Merlin held his breath; Arthur had that look on his face again, like he was about to change everything between them.  “That day I left, after our fight, I found Gwen.” 

****

“You did?”  Instantly, Merlin felt the fear from that day return.  Even as Arthur stood in front of him now, he was all too aware of the fact that he could disappear at any moment.

****

Arthur nodded.  “I was upset. I thought you wanted me out of your life.  So I tried to…” He trailed off, unable to finish the rest of that sentence.

****

Merlin finished it for him.  “You tried to move on.”

****

“And I couldn’t,” Arthur said.  He hung his head, looking ashamed.  “I tried touching her, and my hand fell right through.  I tried talking to her, and she didn’t hear me. I tried playing with the radio, and she turned it off after a minute.  I think I annoyed her, more than anything.” He laughed, but it was a noiseless one. “Gwen’s not my unfinished business.” 

****

“You’re wrong,” Merlin said.  He was all too aware of how similar his words sounded to Arthur’s when he denied his sister’s feelings for Gwen.  Empty and hollow and defensive. “You just made a mistake, or you didn’t try hard enough. There must be--” 

****

“Merlin.”  Arthur’s voice went soft in that unexpected way it did, always catching Merlin off balance and making his stomach flutter with a strange feeling of anticipation.  “Everyone in my life is doing fine without me. Morgana’s running the company; Gwen’s moving on with the rest of her life. The only loose thread here is you.” 

****

Merlin’s breath caught in his throat.  When had Arthur gotten so close? He was mere inches away, close enough that Merlin could see the fine line of his mouth and the small indention his teeth made when he bit on his lower lip.  Slowly, impossibly, he came even closer, so there was only a breadth of space between them. 

****

Merlin flinched back from him.

****

“Merlin?”  Arthur’s voice rose to an unfamiliar pitch.  When Merlin looked at him, he saw that his face was red and his eyes were searching Merlin’s for some kind of explanation.  He looked small and hurt and vulnerable in a way Merlin had never seen him before.

****

Merlin swallowed hard and looked away.  “You were gonna leave. You were going to move on without even saying goodbye.  That’s how important I was to you. And now you wanna change your mind? Because the spell isn’t working with the ring?”

****

“I’m not--” Arthur faltered. 

****

The door swung open and cut him off mid sentence, and Merlin thought, _there goes our last chance._   Gwen or Elyan or Morgana would find him there, and he’d have to make up another excuse.  With his luck, it would be Morgana, and she’d file a restraining order that would stop him from ever coming back here and figuring out the damn spell to bring Arthur back.

****

He was wrong.  It was none of those people.  It was a nurse. Merlin mumbled a hello and quickly left the room before anyone more suspecting arrived.   

****

Arthur followed.  When he went to place a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, Merlin stopped him.  “I can get myself home,” he said. Before Arthur could protest, he added, “I’ll look into other spells.  There’s gotta be one that doesn’t require a charm.”

****

“Oh,” Arthur said.  “You still want to bring me back?”

****

“I told you I would.  And I’m not the type to bail on other people.”

****

If Arthur heard the passive aggressive bite in those words, he didn’t respond to it.  He merely said, “Thank you.” He was humble and appreciative in a way Merlin would’ve appreciated much more if he weren’t so hurt just then.  Merlin wanted to scoff. Typical Arthur, keeping his soft side a secret until Merlin was too angry to appreciate it. 

****

“Finding a new spell will take some time,” Merlin said.  “I’ll have to look through all my old spellbooks.” 

****

“I could help--”

****

“Most of them are in the original Latin.  I’ll just need the rest of the week to look through them.”  He crossed his arms and refused to look at Arthur as he spoke.  “So, in that time, it’s probably better that you don’t come around the apartment.” 

****

“Oh,” Arthur said.  Merlin caved, and looked at him.  Yep, just as he suspected: there was that hurt look on his face.  Merlin felt his anger waver under the immense guilt he was suddenly feeling.  Arthur opened his mouth and closed it, like he wasn’t sure what to say to make things better between them.  Finally, he spoke. “Merlin, can we just talk about this?”

****

Merlin wanted to say yes.  He wanted to talk to Arthur and sort everything out and go back home and watch movies and fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed and know that he had someone taking care of him.  He wanted to stop feeling this way. Beneath all the hurt and the anger, the rational part of his brain knew that Arthur hadn’t meant to hurt him when he tried to move on. He knew Arthur had been feeling hurt himself that night.  He knew Arthur had been under the impression that Merlin _wanted_ him to go.  But… 

****

Arthur was going to leave, like everyone else.  If the choice were up to Arthur, he would be gone right now, and Merlin would be completely alone.  No more talks; no more movies; no more games of Fuck, Marry, Kill; no more stupid blond prats taking up space in his life; no more Arthur, period, end of sentence, forever.  

****

“I think you’ve said enough,” Merlin said.  He added, “I just need the week.” He couldn’t have Arthur around right now.  He needed to get used to the prat being gone. Once Arthur had his life back, why would he want to hang around Merlin anymore?  Merlin knew he was going to lose him. 

****

And, fine.  Merlin would let him go.  Of course he would. If Arthur wanted to go back to his life and forget he’d ever met Merlin, then Merlin would let him.  He wouldn’t force someone to stay who didn’t want him.  

****

But if Arthur didn’t want him, Merlin needed to stop enjoying their time together so much.  He needed to stop looking for Arthur when he first woke up every morning. He needed to stop seeing him last each night before he fell asleep.  He needed to stop falling asleep on the couch, knowing Arthur would carry him to his bed and wrap the sheets around him so he wouldn’t get cold.  He needed to stop needing Arthur.

****

If Merlin wanted to find the right spell to bring Arthur back, he needed to be one hundred percent motivated.  No distractions. No emotional attachments. No conflicting feelings about the spirit he was bringing back to life.  He couldn’t focus if the prat was constantly hanging around, reminding Merin of how much he’d miss him when he went back to his own life.  

****

Arthur reached out a hand to him.  “Can I at least apparate you home?”

****

“I told you, I can get myself home.  Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin didn’t need a ghost to magically transport him home.  He could get used to taking the bus by himself again. He walked away from Arthur, pointedly ignoring the other person in the hall who had noticed him talking to nobody.

****

Two buses, one taxi, and two and a half hours later, he finally made his way back to his apartment.  The whole way home, he felt eyes on him, like he was being watched by a faraway figure. But he didn’t see Arthur lurking about, and he decided the feeling must have just been his imagination. 

****

***

****

The next week was the longest of Merlin’s life.  Everyday that he came home to an empty apartment, he felt like he was reliving the day Arthur disappeared on him.  He told himself he needed to get used to Arthur being gone. But Merlin wasn’t getting used to Arthur being gone, not even a little bit.  Everyday, Merlin missed him more. Every night, he fell asleep on the couch. Every morning, he woke up there. Every minute, he waited for Arthur to come back.

****

What a pointless form of torture to inflict on himself.  He was the one who told Arthur to stay away, and now, what?  He was mad at Arthur for following his wishes?   

****

He spent all his free time combing through old spell books, trying to find a spell that would help Arthur.  But after a week, he’d come up with nothing. Every single necromancy spell required an item from the deceased that symbolized their unfinished business.  Unfinished business was what kept ghosts tied to earth, in the first place; a soul’s unfinished business was the key to whether they moved on or came back to life or went nowhere at all for the rest of eternity.  

****

There was one key difference between a soul that moved on and one that came back to life.  A soul that moved on completed their unfinished business; a soul that came back to life used their unfinished business as a sort of anchor to bring them back into the world.  The charm was vital. The charm was the soul’s anchor, the one thing binding them to earth, the only thing that could possibly bring them back.       

****

He reread every single book he owned.  He even went through his mom’s things, packaged away since she died, and reread all of her old books.  He found nothing that could help Arthur. They needed the charm, or the spell would never work, no matter how many times Merlin tried.    

****

For the upteenth time since her death, Merlin wished his mom was there.  She’d know what to do.  

****

‘Gwen’s not my unfinished business,’ Arthur had said.  ‘The only loose thread here is you.’ But he couldn’t be right.  Merlin hadn’t even known Arthur when he was alive; he couldn’t be the thing that tied him to the earth.  They didn’t have a ring; they didn’t have any item that symbolized their connection.  

****

Merlin was not Arthur’s unfinished business.  He couldn’t be -- because if Merlin was Arthur’s unfinished business, then Arthur didn’t have a chance in hell of coming back. 

 

By the time the week was over, Merlin felt like an eternity had passed since he last saw Arthur.  He sat on the couch now, scouring through spellbooks to make sure he hadn’t missed anything that could help them.  He jumped when he heard the bell ring.

****

“Hello?”      

****

A familiar voice answered him through the intercom.  “Hey Merlin, it’s Elyan. Can I come up?” 

****

“Uh, yeah, just a minute.”  Merlin tossed the spellbook into his room before letting Elyan up.  

****

He was confused.  Normally, he would feel elated about Elyan dropping by.  Hell, he used to go out of his way coming up with excuses for Elyan to come over.  But now, as he buzzed Elyan up, he felt an unexpected twinge of annoyance at Elyan for showing up unexpectedly.  He wanted to keep looking through his books on the off chance there was a spell he’d missed.  

****

He waited for Elyan at the door, like he did every time Elyan came over, and he tried to tamp the feeling down.  It wasn’t Elyan’s fault Merlin was exhausted and irritated after the week he just had. It wasn’t Elyan’s fault Merlin was going out of his mind waiting and hoping for Arthur to come back.  It wasn’t Elyan’s fault Arthur was taking up so much space in Merlin’s head that he couldn’t make room for Elyan the same way he used to.  

****

As soon as Elyan walked in the door, Merlin felt all of his annoyance disappear.  Elyan looked just as wrecked as Merlin felt. His shirt was wrinkled like he’d slept in it or picked it up off the floor of his closet.  His eyes were tired like he hadn’t slept at all since Merlin saw him at work on Friday. Even his smile was faded like he’d forgotten how to smile for real and was simply doing a poor impression of a smile.  

****

He still looked good, though.  His hair was short enough that a few days without proper hygiene hadn’t had any effect on it.  And even when his eyes were tired, they were still framed by those thick lashes. Even in his disheveled state, the first thing Merlin noticed about him was the first thing Merlin always noticed about him: he looked good.  Maybe it was habit by now, the way Merlin only ever looked for the best in Elyan. For so long, Merlin had seen him as this perfect, unattainable idea. Sometimes he had to remind himself Elyan really was just human.    

****

Now, the way Elyan greeted Merlin was _undeniably human._   His voice was small and thin and broken sounding.  “Me and Freya broke up.”

****

“Oh, Elyan.”  Merlin saw it now: the cracks in the perfect exterior.  Elyan was barely holding it together.  

****

Merlin wrapped him in a hug and squeezed tight, like maybe he could hold all the broken pieces back into place.  

****

Elyan sniffled as he pulled back.  “Sorry to drop by like this.” When he said, ‘this,’ he raised his hands, indicating his messy state more than his impromptu arrival.  “I usually go to Gwaine with these kinds of problems. He’s an absolute git, but somehow he always knows how to cheer me up. But if I told him about Freya, I’m sure he would just say, ‘I told you so.’  He never thought we were right for each other.”     

****

_I wonder why,_ Merin thought wryly.  But he didn’t voice the thought out loud; Gwaine would tell Elyan how he felt when he was ready.  For now, Merlin focused on his friend. “No worries; you can always come to me like this.” 

****

Elyan smiled.  “Thanks, Merlin.  You’re a good friend.”  

****

The rest of Elyan’s visit was spent at Merlin’s kitchen table.  Merlin made tea and talked him through his breakup. “So, what happened?” Merlin asked.  He slid Elyan’s tea in front of him and took a sip of his own. “I mean, you love Freya.”  

****

“I do.  I did. I thought I did.”  Elyan’s face screwed up in sad confusion.  “She’s perfect, right? She’s this smart, kind, funny, amazing girl.  Who wouldn’t love her?” Elyan took a breath. “But maybe love isn’t supposed to be that easy.  ‘You love someone because they’re right for you, not because they’d be right for just anyone.’ Gwaine gave me that advice once.”

****

Once again, Merlin had to bite back a knowing smile.  To think sarcastic, irreverent Gwaine sat around with Elyan and talked about love.  The poor bastard must have been really far gone for Elyan. “Gwaine can be very wise.” 

****

Elyan looked thoughtful.  “You know, from the moment I met her I knew I wanted her in my life.  Have you ever had a moment like that? Where you looked at someone, and you just wanted to love them?” 

****

Merlin wanted to laugh.  The first time he ever saw Elyan, he was arguing with Gwaine about whether magic was real.  He was waving his hands emphatically and shaking his head at everything Gwaine was saying. Merlin thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  That night, lying in bed, he imagined having someone like Elyan in his life. Someone strong and brave and passionate. Someone who fought for his beliefs, even when the rest of the world told him he was wrong.  Someone who loved magic the way Merlin always wished the world could love magic.  

****

“Yeah,” Merlin said, “I’ve had a moment like that.”  He wondered if Arthur had looked at Gwen the same way, when they first met.  Arthur said he loved her at first sight. He wondered if Arthur saw Gwen as a wish come true; an unattainable idea; an escape from the trap his life had set up for him.  Morgana said the only time Arthur stood up to Uther was for Gwen. Something about her gave him courage, gave him the hope that life could be different. Maybe everyone needed to see someone that way.  In a world as scary and disappointing as theirs, fraught with so much violence and ill-intention, maybe everyone needed just one person to represent goodness and beauty and bravery.  

****

‘I think he wanted very much to love her,’ Morgana said.  But was idealizing someone the same as really loving them?      

****

“I think,” Merlin said, “when someone’s right for you, you don’t just see the best in them; you see everything.  You know them. You know what they love and what they regret and how to cheer them up and when to call them out.  

****

“Love isn’t just about taking care of someone; it’s about challenging them, too.  But if you see someone as perfect, you’re not going to challenge them. You’re not going to call them out when they act like a prat.  You’re not going to comfort them when they make a mistake, because you don’t think they make any mistakes.” He felt at once disappointed and relieved that Arthur wasn’t there.  Merlin was coming to a pretty big realization that involved the prat. “I think true love happens when you get to know someone and still want them around.” 

****

Elyan had an intense look in his eye, like he was coming to a realization himself.  “I think you’re right.” On any other day, that look would’ve sent butterflies fluttering in Merlin’s stomach.  But tonight felt different. Merlin felt like he was seeing Elyan for the first time. He looked just as perfect as the day they met, even in his broken state, but Merlin saw him differently.  

****

Maybe he’d taken his rose-colored glasses off.  Or maybe this was the first time Merlin looked at Elyan without wanting something from him.  Either way, Merlin didn’t hope that the look on Elyan’s face was for him; he knew it wasn’t. Elyan had a faraway look in his eyes.  Whoever he was thinking about, it wasn’t Merlin.   

****

“What’s going on here?”  A third voice broke into Merlin’s thoughts, making him jump.  

****

Arthur was back. 

****

“Merlin?”  Elyan was looking at him now, brow creased with concern.  “You okay?”

****

“Yes,” Merlin choked out.  Slowly, reluctantly, he settled back in his seat.  All he wanted was to jump up and hug Arthur just to make sure he was real.  But he couldn’t, not with Elyan there.

****

Speaking of Elyan, he took that moment to squeeze Merlin’s shoulder.  “Thanks, Merlin. I’m really glad I have you in my life. You’ve cleared a lot of things up for me.  I may not have a girlfriend anymore, but I have the best friend a guy could ask for.”  

****

“Oh?” Arthur said, interest piqued.  He invited himself to sit down on Merlin’s other side.  “Elyan and his girlfriend broke up, and the first person he came to is you.  That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

****

Merlin ignored him.  “No problem. Like I said, you can always come to me with this stuff.” 

****

“I bet,” Arthur said.  He leaned in closer to Merlin.  “Careful, Merlin. If you hook up with him now, he’ll think you’re just a rebound.”  Arthur’s voice in his ear made him shiver.

****

“You okay?” Elyan asked again.

****

“Cold,” Merlin said.  He made an excuse about turning the heat up and left the table for the solitude of the front room.  When Arthur appeared at his side, he spoke in a low voice so Elyan wouldn’t hear him through the wall, yelling at nobody.  “What are you doing?”

****

“Me?” Arthur returned.  “What are you doing? What happened to going for someone more available?”

****

“In case you haven’t heard,” Merlin said, “he’s single now.  And alive,” he added, scathingly.

****

Arthur flinched.  Merlin wasn’t sure what hit Arthur harder: the comment about his undead state, which was seeming more and more permanent the longer time went on; or the way Merlin finally acknowledged this _thing_ that had been growing between them ever since Arthur fell into Merlin’s life and made himself at home there.  ‘He’s single now. And alive.’ Merlin may as well have called Arthur a jealous boyfriend.  

****

Merlin regretted the words instantly.  He waited for Arthur to get angry, to tell him he didn’t care who Merlin dated, and the only reason Arthur was still in Merlin’s life was because Merlin was the only one who could bring him back from the brink of death.  He waited for Arthur to confirm all his fears that Arthur was just using him, and as soon as Merlin did what Arthur needed, he’d never see him again.

****

Arthur levelled a look at him.  He furrowed a brow, tense looking.  “Not everyone’s going to leave you, Merlin,” he said.

****

The words, soft and caring, knocked Merlin back harder than any spite or anger could have.  Arthur really did know him better than anyone.  His eyes were staring into Merlin’s, and they were so dark and earnest, and Merlin couldn’t believe Arthur was worried about _him,_ when his own life literally hung in the balance.  

****

“I couldn’t find another way to bring you back,” Merlin told him.  “We need a charm for the spell to work.” 

****

Arthur was undeterred.  “Then I guess we need to find out what my charm is,” he said, looking at Merlin intently.

****

Merlin tried not to squirm under that gaze.  “Are you sure it’s not the ring?”

****

“Positive.”  Heat pooled in Merlin’s stomach.  Arthur sounded so certain. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes.  Merlin felt like something was building between them, pulling them towards each other.  

****

“Hey, Merlin.”  Elyan’s voice echoed in the empty front room.  Merlin jumped, searching his mind for excuses. He was talking to himself.  He was rehearsing for a play. He was talking to someone on his bluetooth… Dammit, why hadn’t he gotten a bluetooth?  The day a ghost started haunting him, he should’ve went and gotten a bluetooth!  

****

But there was no trace of concern or confusion in Elyan’s face, so he must have missed the part where Merlin was having a conversation with nobody.  “I have to go,” Elyan told him. “Thanks so much for everything.”

****

“What’s wrong?” Merlin said.  “Did Freya call?” 

****

“No,” Elyan said, “my sister.  She’s in a bad way. She’s going to have the plug pulled on Arthur.”

****

Merlin felt his heart stop.  “What?”

****

“Yeah, she’s at the hospital now, having some last moments with him.  To be honest,” he added, looking embarrassed, “I haven’t always been the best brother to her.  But I’m going to be there for her now, and offer moral support. Just like you did for me tonight.”  He nudged Merlin’s shoulder playfully.  

****

Arthur stared.  “Did you just get sibling-zoned?” 

****

Merlin glared at him.  Elyan just said Gwen was pulling the plug on Arthur, and the prat was focused on Merlin’s _dating life?_

****

“Thanks again,” Elyan was saying, “I’ll see you at work Monday.”  He was headed for the door.

****

“Wait!” Merlin blurted.  “I’ll come with you.”

****

“Really?”  

****

“Sure,” Merlin said, weakly.  “I mean, someone’s gotta offer moral support to the moral support, right?”

****

Elyan beamed.  “Thanks, Merlin.  You really are saving me tonight.”

****

Hopefully Elyan wasn’t the only one Merlin was saving.  “You’re sure I can come? No one will mind?” Merlin wasn’t trying to change Elyan’s mind, but he did need to get an idea of what he was walking into if he wanted to come up with a plan to actually save Arthur on this visit.  He couldn’t risk another botched attempt. Arthur didn’t have the time.

****

“Of course you can come,” Elyan said.  “Gwen thinks you’re sweet. And I can’t think of a reason Morgana would have any problem with you being there.” 

****

Morgana.  Shit. “Oh,” Merlin faltered, “yeah.  Me, neither.”  

****

Arthur let out a low whistle as he followed them out the door.  “Morgana’s gonna kill you…”  **  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT:
> 
>  
> 
> See End Notes for trigger warnings for this chapter!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Stay safe, everybody <3

The hospital room was filled with stony silence. Elyan shifted back and forth, looking nervous and unsure. Gwen was still and quiet, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. And Morgana… 

Well. Morgana looked just about as happy as you would expect. She alternated between comforting Gwen and staring daggers at Merlin. Currently, she dropped her venomous stare in favor of wrapping an arm around the other girl. She did so in a manner more familiar than any of the weak pats or shoulder-squeezes occasionally offered by her brother. Both Merlin and Elyan seemed relieved by the change. Merlin had the distinct feeling the two of them were intruding on a private moment.

He never imagined that bringing someone back to life could be so awkward.

Still, he couldn’t leave. This was his last chance to save Arthur. 

Gwen got up from her stiff chair, stretching her legs as she did so. “I need to get out of this room for awhile,” she said. “I’m going to get coffee for everyone. Morgana, come with?”

Morgana was looking at Merlin. “Actually,” she said, “I think your brother wants to go with you.”

“Yeah,” Elyan agreed, rising from his own chair. 

Gwen offered Elyan a small smile. To her credit, it almost looked real. “Great,” she said. “Let’s go, bro.” 

“Alright, sis.”

They headed out the door, leaving Merlin alone with Morgana. He looked to Arthur for help.

“Uh,” Arthur said, “distract her.”

Merlin started to talk before Morgana could threaten him with a restraining order. “They seem close,” he said of Gwen and Elyan.

Morgana hummed. “Elyan took off right after their mom passed. Everyone handles grief differently; I suppose he needed to deal with his on his own.” 

Merlin stared. Here Morgana was again, talking to Merlin like he should understand her, when he really didn’t. He didn’t even know Elyan’s mom was dead. Elyan never talked about her. Not to Merlin, anyway. Merlin felt a sharp stab of guilt, wondering if he even knew the guy he’d spent the last three years pining over. 

Morgana went on, “Gwen’s the opposite way: she needs people around her when she’s grieving. She resents her brother for not being there for her -- but she’s Gwen, so of course she won’t just tell him the truth about how she feels. She’d rather just pretend everything’s fine. God forbid anyone knows she has feelings, just like the rest of us.” This last part, Morgana said in a soft murmur, like she was talking more to herself than Merlin. “I know Elyan feels guilty for leaving, but he doesn’t know how to make things right with his sister when she won’t even admit that things are wrong between them.” 

Merlin knew about the guilt, at least. Elyan had said something about not being the best brother to Gwen. Morgana went on, “You understand why I suggested Elyan go with her just now. They need to talk through their issues if they ever want to get past them and be a family again. Gwen could use some family right now.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking pensive. Merlin knew if Gwen were still there, Morgana would be wrapping her arms around her right now.

Unfortunately for him, Gwen was not there. “Plus,” Morgana said, shooting him a look, “I needed a chance to talk with you alone.” 

Merlin leveled a glare at Arthur. Yeah, distracting her had worked -- for about twenty whole seconds. “Look Morgana,” he said, “I know what you’re thinking, but--”

“You want to know what I’m thinking?” Morgana said. “I’m thinking you’re here because Gwen’s about to have Arthur taken off life-support, and you have delusions of grandeur in which you stop her and maybe even find a way to wake him up.” 

“Well,” Merlin said. She actually wasn’t far off. “I wouldn’t say I have ‘delusions of grandeur.’”

Morgana scoffed. “I hate being right all the time.” 

“No, listen Morgana, I’m here because--”

“No, you listen, Merlin. This is a really hard day for everyone, and I don’t need you making it worse. Gwen doesn’t need you making it worse. If you don’t leave my brother’s hospital room this instant, I will force you out of here myself. Understood?” She stood up, ready to make good on her threat. As she did, the hem of her shirt collar slid down just enough to reveal the stone on the necklace she always wore.

Merlin gasped. Black onyx. “Morgana,” he said, “have you always had that necklace?”

Morgana seemed so taken aback by the abrupt change in subject that she answered him. “Since I was young. It was a gift.” 

“Oh,” Arthur said. “Morgana…” He sighed her name, exasperated. No doubt, he wondered just how many things he didn’t know about his own sister.

“Take it off,” Merlin said.

“Excuse me?”

“If you want to understand what I’m doing here, I need you to take off that necklace, Morgana.” 

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “I’m not doing anything you say. Now get out of here, before I call security.”

“Enough,” Arthur decided. “I’ll take it off.” He moved to Morgana and reached for the clasp on the necklace.

Morgana shuddered, the same way Gwaine had when Arthur touched him. She took a few steps back. As she went, she stepped right through Arthur’s spirit. Shivers descended on her, racking her body with cold tremors. “I don’t know what you’re playing at…” She was looking at Merlin with an accusatory glare.

Merlin held his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t do anything.” He hesitated before adding, “Arthur did.” 

Morgana looked to where her brother was lying unconscious on the hospital bed. “I don’t think he did!”

“His ghost did,” Merlin said. He heard how ridiculous he sounded. “I can show you. You’ll see him too, as soon as you take that necklace off.” 

Morgana refused. “This necklace was given to me by someone I love very much, so you’re going to have to be a lot more convincing if you want me to take it off.”

“Gaius,” Arthur supplied, “her godfather. He died soon after he gave it to her. I thought she wore it because it reminded her of him, but now…” He trailed off, thinking. “She used to have nightmares. Gwaine said the same thing, didn’t he? He said he used to have nightmares, and his mom gave him the necklace because she thought it would help.” 

“Your godfather,” Merlin said. “Gaius. He’s the one who gave it to you. He said it would help with the nightmares. Everyone thinks you wear it for sentimentality, but that’s not the reason, is it Morgana? You used to dream of terrible things, but when you woke up the nightmares were never over… because they weren’t nightmares at all. They were visions of the future. Everything you dreamed of came true, didn’t it, Morgana?”

“How do you know--”

“Because I’m like you,” Merlin said. “I have certain abilities that other people don’t. They scared me, too, at first.” 

“Fuck you.” If the way Morgana looked at Merlin earlier was venomous, the way she looked at him now was downright murderous. Yet, her voice started to tremble as she spoke, revealing something fragile and broken hidden beneath her glare. “My dreams weren’t premonitions. They were images constructed in the subconscious of a moody, temperamental teenager. Coincidentally, maybe some of the things I dreamed about happened later, in real life. So what? I didn’t wish them into existence! I’m not responsible for--” She broke off.

“You say you can see Arthur.” Her voice was low and quiet, where it had been sharp and trembling before. “Tell me something only Arthur would know. Anyone could’ve told you Gaius gave me this necklace.”

He looked at Arthur, waiting.

Arthur was looking at Morgana. His brow was creased in worry for his sister. Merlin empathized. He’d met a few seers in his day, and most suffered at least one or two disturbing visions in their lifetimes. But they often dreamed of good visions more than not. They dreamed of their first home or their future spouse or their unborn grandchildren. He once met a seer who told him she dreamed of her wedding the night before she met her husband. Merlin barely knew Morgana, but he was already under the impression she was maybe the fiercest person he’d ever come across. Yet, she seemed utterly terrified by her visions. He felt a sharp wave of sympathy for the girl. No one deserved to live in fear of their own future. 

His sympathy only increased as Arthur spoke. Merlin repeated the words to Morgana: “You’d never say so out loud, but Arthur knows that secretly, you were afraid of your father. Once, he locked you in the basement as a punishment. He didn’t just lock the door; he locked you up with chains that cut so deep, you still have marks on your wrists to this day. Those marks are the reason you always wear your bracelets.” 

Morgana crossed her arms, hiding her wrists. She must’ve caught Merlin looking at them, he realized with embarrassment. He went on, “Arthur wants you to know he’s sorry for not standing up for you then, and he’s sorry for everything that happened after. He’s sorry for not asking if you wanted to run the company, and for never noticing how you felt about Guinevere--”

She sucked in a breath. “He knows how I feel about Gwen?” 

“He doesn’t care,” Merlin added quickly. “He loves you. He just wants you to be happy.” 

A minute passed before Morgana spoke. “I hated Uther so much. I hated Arthur a little, too.” She blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. “After that day, Uther never locked me in the basement again; I can only guess Arthur talked to him.

“I know Arthur did his best to help me. But I hated him for not doing more. And I hated him for being Uther’s favorite.” The tears started to fall, despite Morgana’s best efforts to keep them at bay. “I had a dream about the accident,” she confessed. “I saw Arthur fall down the stairs and hit his head. I thought it was just a nightmare. But then I got a call from Gwen, saying she found him at the bottom of the stairs.” She spoke through big, racking sobs. “I didn’t know the dream would come true! I swear, Arthur!” She reached back and undid the clasp on her necklace, ready to face her brother. 

Merlin could see the exact moment Arthur appeared in her line of sight. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a huge breath.

“Morgana,” Arthur said.

She threw her arms around him. 

He clutched her close, murmuring assurances in her hair. “Don’t cry, ‘Gana… You didn’t do anything wrong. You were right. I should’ve done more. I’m sorry…” 

Morgana held him until her sobs turned to sniffles, and her breathing returned to something resembling a normal pace. She spoke into his shoulder. “We were both just kids. I know you did the best you could.” Finally, she pulled back, wiping her nose on her sleeve. The gesture made her look younger.

“Okay,” she said. Her face was still red and damp, but when she clasped her hands together, she was all-business. Merlin was surprised by how quickly she put herself back together. Between her and Arthur, she really was the obvious choice for a boss. “What’s the plan?” she said.

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked.

“How are you going to bring him back?”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged uneasy glances. 

Morgana stared at them. “You don’t have a plan to bring him back?”

“Maybe not a ‘plan,’ per say…,” Arthur said.

“‘Plan’ sounds a bit ambitious; we have a goal,” Merlin said. 

Morgana stared at them. “I have a plan,” she said. 

Oh, thank gods, Merlin thought. 

“I’m going to go find Gwen and Elyan and distract them for as long as possible. While I’m gone, you two -- figure out the rest.” 

Oh, no, Merlin thought. Morgana headed out the door, leaving Merlin and Arthur to their own devices. They stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly at a loss.

Finally, Arthur spoke. “You must think I’m terrible,” he said.

Merlin stared at him. “Why?”

“You heard Morgana. Uther treated her horribly, and what did I do? I didn’t call child protective services. I didn’t tell anyone what happened. All I did was have a talk with our father.” 

“Yes,” Merlin said, “and after your talk, Uther never touched Morgana again. You stood up to him. Maybe you should’ve acted differently, but like Morgana said -- you were just a kid. Kids don’t always make the best judgement calls. And ultimately, the only person responsible for your father’s actions was your father.”

“All the times I talked to you about Uther… I made him sound so righteous and upstanding.” Arthur said the words with disdain, like he had perverted them just by associating them with Uther’s name.

“Well,” Merlin said, “he was your father.”

“He’s also the guy who hurt my sister.”

“Exactly,” Merlin said. “You’re allowed to have mixed feelings about him. You’re allowed to hate him and love him at the same time.”

Arthur stared at him, glassy eyed. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem.” Merlin didn’t need to ask what Arthur was thanking him for. He knew Arthur was thankful for the same reason Merlin was: both of them had found someone who accepted them completely. Even the parts of them they were ashamed of. 

“Okay,” Arthur said. He clasped his hands together in a poor imitation of Morgana. “Let’s come up with a plan.”

Merlin reached for the wedding band.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “do you know what the definition of insanity is?” 

Merlin huffed. 

“We’ve tried the spell with the ring already; it didn’t work then, and it’s not going to work now. If we want the spell to work, we need to figure out what the right charm is.” 

“Fine,” Merlin said, “then you tell me what the right charm is.”

Arthur was silent. “I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“We’re screwed,” Merlin said. He began pacing up and down the length of the small hospital room. “We are so, so screwed.”

Arthur cocked his head. “I’m screwed,” he reminded Merlin. “But I like hearing how much you care.” A little smile played at his lips. He looked both touched and amused. A flutter rose up in Merlin’s stomach, even as he felt annoyed that Arthur could be amused at a time like this. 

Merlin stopped pacing to give Arthur a look. “Your life hangs in the balance, and all you care about is teasing me,” he said. “You really are the strangest ghost I’ve ever met.” 

“If only we’d met when I was alive.” Arthur was quiet, but the implication of his words read loud and clear.

Merlin let out a shaky breath. “I know,” he said. He let a hand fall on Arthur’s shoulder. He pressed for just a second, a comforting touch, and then let go. If only. But they hadn’t met when Arthur was alive. They didn’t have any unfinished business between them; if anything, they had unstarted business. “Can you think of anything besides the ring that could work?” 

“I can’t,” Arthur said. He stayed quiet for a minute. “Merlin, what’s going to happen to me? When I die, will my spirit stay here with you? Or will I go somewhere else--”

“Stop,” Merlin said. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, because you’re not dying.” 

“Merlin.” Arthur looked at him, and his eyes were so wide and earnest, Merlin ceased his arguments at once. “Tell me I can stay with you,” Arthur said, “and I won’t be afraid to die. I’ll be okay, as long as I know I have you.”

Merlin wiped his eyes. When had he started crying? “Are you saying you want to haunt me forever?”

Arthur smiled. “I can think of worse fates.” Just as quickly as it appeared, the smile fell from his face. “Can you get Morgana?” he asked. “I want to say goodbye this time.” 

Merlin didn’t move. He thought he should feel elated about the prospect of Arthur haunting him forever. He got what he wanted, right? Arthur would never leave him. He wouldn’t really have much of a choice.

Merlin didn’t feel elated. 

“Arthur,” he said, “did I ever tell you what the charm was that my mom used to try and bring Dad back?” 

Arthur raised a brow. “Um, no. Can you tell me later? I don’t think now is the best time.” 

Merlin continued, resolute. “She used his wedding ring. Classic, right? I mean, what better reason to come back to life than true love? But…” Merlin trailed off, thinking. 

“But, what?”

“I thought Mom died because she wasn’t powerful enough to handle the spell to bring my dad back. But maybe I was wrong. My whole life, Mom never talked much about Dad. Whenever she did, she said nice things: he was a great guy, he made her laugh, he just wasn’t ready to be a father.” He paused, thinking. “I believed her when I was younger, but the older I got the more I started reading between the lines of her stories. When Mom told my dad she was pregnant with me, he bailed. She worked two jobs and took care of me without help from anyone. He only started talking to us again when he got sick.” He sighed and quietly reminded himself to breathe. He couldn’t let his anger for his dad well up right now. He had to stay focused. “Whatever they had together, I don’t think it was true love.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur cocked his head at Merlin. “If it wasn’t true love, then the spell wouldn’t have worked, right? Just like the spell didn’t work for me and Gwen.” He said that last part in a murmur. In the past few months, Arthur had often suggested he and Gwen didn’t share true love. But he’d always said so in a way that implied he was at fault; he didn’t love her the way he was ‘supposed to.’ 

For once, Arthur didn’t sound like he blamed himself for not loving Gwen enough. He only sounded sad that the love between them wasn’t the kind either of them deserved. It wasn’t the life-changing, earth-shattering, death-defying kind of love. For the first time, Arthur sounded like he accepted his relationship with Gwen for what it was. 

It wasn’t the kind of love that started wars or ended them. It wasn’t the kind of love that kept the stars apart or let them fall from the sky. It wasn’t the kind of love that took your whole life apart, and it wasn’t the kind of love that put it back together. Their love was somewhere in the middle.

“Maybe Dad’s unfinished business wasn’t to come back to us and be a family again. Maybe his unfinished business was to do to Mom what he always did to her: take her down with him.” His mom’s spell had done exactly what it was supposed to. Her only mistake was not realizing exactly what the charm symbolized about her relationship with Merlin’s father. The ring was still covered in a fine layer of dust when Merlin found it curled up in her hand. It had been taking up space in one of her drawers all the years that Dad was gone. “The charm only matters because of the feelings tied to it.” He looked at Arthur. “It doesn’t have to be a fancy ring. Maybe as long as you have a real reason to come back, anything will do.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “what are you trying to say?”

“...Fuck it. I’m going to try something, okay?” Without waiting for a reply, he took one of Arthur’s hands in his. In the other, he held the hand of the Arthur lying on the hospital bed. 

Quietly, like a prayer, he uttered the words of the spell. 

He looked at Arthur. 

Arthur was looking back at him with wide eyes. “Merlin…” 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. He didn’t let go of his hands. “I had to try everything. I had to try everything I could to bring you back.”

“So, you--” Arthur broke off. “You said the best reason to come back to life was--”

True love. “Yeah. I was hoping the unrequited kind would work just as well. Stupid, I know.” 

Arthur frowned. “‘Unrequited--?’” 

Then, something happened. Merlin felt it before he realized what it meant. Light sparked where he touched Arthur. The hand clasped inside his left disappeared; Merlin’s hand closed around thin air. The hand inside his right twiched, just a small movement of the fingers. Beside them, the heart monitor sputtered and yowled. 

Merlin jumped away. “Arthur?”

His spirit was gone.

On the hospital bed, Arthur’s eyes blinked open. He looked at Merlin, and Merlin knew at once that he no longer recognized him. Something was missing from Arthur’s eyes that had been there before: that spark of recognition, the easy sense of familiarity between them. Merlin felt like he was looking at a stranger. 

“Oh, my God.” A third voice was in the room suddenly. Merlin followed it to the door, where Elyan was looking at him.

“Elyan!” Morgana’s voice came closely behind. “Wait, I wanted to show you--” 

Morgana stopped short when she saw her brother, awake. “Arthur.” She looked at Merlin and beamed.

“‘Arthur?’” a third voice repeated. Gwen appeared in the doorway next. “Arthur!” she cried, upon seeing him awake. She ran to his side and threw her arms around him. “How are you? How do you feel? How are you awake right now?”

“I’m fine,” Arthur murmured into her hair. Then, “What’s Elyan Smith doing here?”

The doctors came next. 

Merlin left soon after. Elyan called after him. “Merlin! We need to talk about what just happened.” He had a wild look in his eyes. Merlin knew there was no keeping the supernatural a secret from him anymore. 

“We will,” Merlin promised. “But right now, your sister needs you. And I need… to be… not here,” he stuttered. He turned to leave. Elyan didn’t stop him this time.

Someone else did, though. “Merlin!” Morgana ran to his side. She opened her mouth to speak, but she seemed to be at a rare loss for words. He didn’t know her that well, but based on what Arthur told him and what he’d learned for himself, he had a feeling that if Morgana couldn’t fathom the right thing to say, then there probably wasn’t one at all. 

“He doesn’t remember me,” Merlin said.

“He will,” Morgana told him.

Merlin cocked his head at her. “You have a lot of experience with necromancy, Morgana?” 

“No,” she admitted. “But I know Arthur. And he is too loyal and too stubborn to let himself forget about someone he loves; I don’t care if he was technically a spirit when you met!” 

“Who says he loved me?”

Morgana looked unimpressed. “Please. Like I said, I know Arthur. And I saw the way he looked at you.” 

“Well,” Merlin said, “you didn’t see the way he looked at me when he woke up.” He paused, contemplative. “He doesn’t remember what you said to him, either.” 

So many unasked questions hung in the air between them. Merlin wanted to know if Morgana was okay. He wanted to know if she planned to confess to Arthur again. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help her and Arthur heal their relationship in the same way they’d managed just moments ago.

“All I wanted was his forgiveness,” Morgana said, “and I have it. Even if he doesn’t remember giving it to me. And he has mine.” She played with the stone on her necklace; she must have put it back on after she found Gwen and Elyan. “He doesn’t even remember magic. And I wouldn’t know how to explain it to him.” She looked at Merlin, and he understood the implication of her words. She wouldn’t know how to explain magic to Arthur, but perhaps another sorcerer might? 

Merlin sighed. “Neither would I,” he said. 

Morgana nodded, and Merlin knew the meaning of his words were clear to her: he wasn’t going to be explaining anything to Arthur. Not magic. Not how they met. Not what the two of them meant to each other. (He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to answer that last one.) 

“Keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

“He’ll remember you.” Morgana was resolute.

“I’ve gotta go,” Merlin said. 

Two buses, one taxi, and two and a half hours later, he was back in his apartment. He didn’t feel like he was being watched this time. He only felt a profound sense of loneliness.

He supposed to would have to get used to that feeling. His ghost wouldn’t be coming back to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:
> 
> Mentions of past physical child abuse  
> Mentions of scarring on a character's wrists  
> Mentions of guilt  
> Mentions of hate and toxic relationships  
> Mentions of abandonment
> 
>  
> 
> ...This was a really hard chapter to write. I hope I did it justice, but this chapter deals with some seriously heavy subject matter, and chances are good that I didn't handle it as skillfully as another writer could have. I do my best to write all my stories with care and empathy. If there's anything you think needs improving in this chapter, please feel free to let me know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT:
> 
> Please see the End Notes for another trigger warning! Stay safe, everyone :)

“Merlin, it’s been a month. Are we ever going to talk about what happened?”

“Elyan,” Merlin spoke into the intercom. “I thought you weren’t going to drop by unexpectedly anymore.”

“You said I could always come to you.” Elyan actually sounded hurt. Merlin was glad he couldn’t see his face.

Before Elyan rang his bell, Merlin had been in the middle of what was now his usual weekend routine: movie night alone. The Princess Bride was on, and Merlin was too busy wallowing in his own self pity to appreciate it. He didn’t mean to snap at Elyan; he just didn’t feel like seeing anyone right now. He certainly didn’t feel keen on answering another round of questions about magic.

_“I’ve always been shit at astrology… I see it!”_

_“Good. Keep watching.”_

Merlin shook the memory away. Elyan was right: a month had passed since Arthur walked out of Mercy Hospital. A month had passed since Elyan saw Merlin use magic to bring him back to life. And since then, Elyan had been so patient with Merlin: he hadn’t bothered him at all, and Merlin could tell how much he wanted to. Every time they met up for work; every time Ghost Getters visited a new “haunted” location; every time Gwaine made a crack about ghosts or magic or the supernatural, Merlin could feel Elyan’s eyes on him. He could feel how much Elyan wanted Merlin to tell him the truth about magic once and for all.

Yet, Elyan never asked him to. Perhaps he could sense how much Merlin wished to forget that day at Mercy Hospital. For whatever reason, Elyan hadn’t said a word about it since Merlin left him at the hospital.

Until now.

Elyan had waited long enough for answers. And Merlin had spent enough time wallowing. “I did,” he said to Elyan, “and you can. I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling like myself.”

“I know.” Elyan seemed to hesitate before he spoke again. “Morgana told me about Arthur.”

Merlin buzzed him up. When he opened the door, he greeted Elyan with a question. “What did she say?”

Elyan lingered in the doorway, like he was uncertain about whether he was welcome inside or not. Probably because Merlin had barely spoken a word to him, or anyone else, in the past month. “Just that you two were close, and now you’re not.” Elyan paused before he added, “I was hoping you could fill in the blanks. I’ll make the tea this time,” he offered, with a small smile.

“Deal,” Merlin said. “I’ll take three sugars in mine. And some honey, please.” He let Elyan inside, closing the door behind him. They headed into the kitchen. Merlin sat at the table while Elyan prepared the tea, and he thought about the last time they sat here like this.

This time, there would be no Arthur interrupting.

Merlin kept waiting for him to show up again. Every time he was alone in his house, every time he watched a movie, every time he went to work or a party or a hangout with friends, he felt an empty space where Arthur used to be and waited for it to be filled again. And every time, he felt a painful sensation, like sharp, throbbing pain, when the space stayed empty. People say losing someone you love is like losing a body part, like losing an arm. Merlin agreed with that sentiment, to the extent that he _was_ the arm. He felt as though he were lost to himself, with Arthur gone.

He asked Elyan, “How much do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He told Elyan everything. He told him about magic and annoying ghosts and necromancy. When Elyan asked to see Merlin’s magic, he opened his hand and showed Elyan a magically-projected clip of the Ghost Getters Youtube channel.

“Wow,” Elyan gasped. Right in front of his face, large images of him and Gwaine argued over whether psychics were for real. Looking entranced, he poked a finger through his projection’s forehead. The image dipped around his finger, like it was made of water. “That’s amazing.” He tore his gaze away from it to look at Merlin. “You’re amazing.”

Normally, Merlin’s heart would’ve swelled at the sound of such praise from Elyan. Today, it didn’t swell; it thrummed, painfully, just like everything else. Still, he made himself smile at his friend. It wasn’t Elyan’s fault Arthur was gone. It wasn’t Elyan’s fault Merlin was a mess.

Merlin then poked the projection with his pointer finger; it popped like a bubble and disappeared. Elyan giggled like a child, looking positively gleeful.

But as he looked at Merlin, his face sombered. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “I know I can be a bit… _enthusiastic_ about the supernatural. But… you really didn’t trust me to keep your secret?”

Merlin sighed. “There were a lot of reasons I didn’t tell you.” He looked down at his tea, mint green and translucent, at the bottom of his cup. His reflection stared back up at him. “Mostly, I guess I was scared. I never wanted you to see me as a… monster. You’re one of my favorite people in the world, Elyan. But there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, and I’m afraid the more you know me the less you’ll like me.”

“Did you think I’d be scared of you? You, Merlin, our goofy cameraman? One of my best friends?” When Elyan looked up from the tea, Elyan was smiling at him.

Merlin smiled back. He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he said, “I did. I’m sorry. I think I got used to keeping who I was a secret for so long, I started to think that it was all I could ever be: a secret.” He took a sip of his tea, thinking of Arthur. “Some prat had to lose his life and worm his way into mine for me to realize that I could be more. I could have a real, honest connect with someone, just like everybody else.”

“You can,” Elyan agreed. Gently, he took Merlin’s cup from his hands and put it down on the table, forcing Merlin to look into his eyes once more. “Merlin, I’m so sorry about Arthur.” He held out his arms.

Merlin embraced him gladly. “I’m so ridiculous,” he said. The words came out muffled against Elyan’s shoulder. “I didn’t even lose him, really. I mean, he’s not _dead.”_

He couldn’t tell who started laughing first, him or Elyan; but soon they were both in hysterics, practically falling over each other as they shook with laughter. Everything truly seemed ridiculously unbelievable right then. Elyan finally had proof of magic, and he could never tell anyone about it. Meanwhile, Merlin was sobbing on Elyan’s shoulder because he had successfully brought a man back to life. What a joke. What a bizarre, tragic, incredible situation they both found themselves in.

When Merlin pulled back, he found himself closer to Elyan’s face than he had ever been. He could’ve counted each individual eyelash of his if he wanted. He certainly had the time; no one was about to appear and interrupt them.

He didn’t count those eyelashes. He said, “Elyan?”

“Hmm?”

Merlin kissed him. It was gentle, nothing more than a peck.

It felt like a punch -- thrumming, throbbing pain. As soon as he touched him, Merlin reeled back, like he’d touched a hot stovetop. He pressed a hand over his own mouth. Panicked, he wondered if there was a bruise beneath it, blue and purple blooming just below the skin. There must be, he thought, because inside he ached.

Another empty space. Merlin had just wanted to feel less alone, if only for a moment. Instead, he felt the loneliness swell inside him the moment their lips touched. It amplified, compounded, and demanded to be felt. Every time he tried to fill the empty space with something else, it just hurt worse -- like picking at a wound instead of allowing it to heal.

But he couldn’t stop picking at it, no matter how he tried. He just wanted to feel _okay_ again.

“Oh,” Elyan said. He pulled back, far enough to look at Merlin. When he looked at him, Merlin half expected to see his lips stained with purple bruises of his own. But Elyan didn’t appear hurt. Only surprised.

Oh.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said.

“No, don’t be,” Elyan said. “Merlin, I care about you so much--”

“But you’re straight,” Merlin finished, “and I’m an idiot--”

“No!” Elyan said. “I’m not straight. I’m pansexual, actually. And you’re not an idiot, Merlin. You’re one of the most brilliant, beautiful, amazing people I’ve ever met. But you just lost someone you really care about.” Merlin opened his mouth to speak; Elyan cut him off before he could. “I know what you’re gonna say -- he’s not dead, you performed a miracle, you’re just happy he’s alive and well. But Merlin, you can be happy he’s alive _and_ sad that you lost him. One feeling doesn’t invalidate the other. And your grief is real, whether you think it’s warranted or not.”

“You’re right,” Merlin said. “Gods, can we just forget the last two minutes ever happened?” He huffed a nervous laugh.

“Of course,” Elyan said. He really was perfect. Merlin silently thanked the gods he had such an amazing friend. The two of them both relaxed now that they knew that kiss didn’t have to ruin anything between them. Elyan went on, “We probably dodged a bullet, anyway. Both of us. Work relationships rarely end well. And they’re really quite… what’s the word?”

“Unprofessional,” Merlin finished. A strange sense of dejavu was descending on him.

Elyan snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”

Merlin couldn’t help the smirk that was growing on his face. He knew if Arthur were there, he’d be whooping. Elyan was thinking of someone in particular. Someone from their work. Merlin sent a look at him. “It’s Gwaine, isn’t it?” Better be Gwaine, he thought. _Someone_ in this story deserved to live happily ever after.

Elyan blinked. He opened his mouth, and then he closed it again. Opened it. “How did you know?” he asked.

Merlin shrugged. “Just a feeling.” Maybe someday Merlin would tell Elyan just how gone he used to be for him. But not now. There were more pressing matters at hand. Whatever feelings he used to have for Elyan, they felt so far away now: just a neat little memory folded up in the back of his mind. Almost like a dream. “How long have you had feelings for Gwaine?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Elyan said. “Awhile, I suppose.”

Oh. “So, you and Freya--”

“No,” Elyan said, quickly. “I mean, nothing’s happened between Gwaine and me. I never would’ve cheated on Freya--”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Merlin said, patting his shoulder. “I didn’t think you did. You’re not the type.”

Elyan nodded, relaxing. “I didn’t even realize I had feelings until recently. Gwaine… He kind of snuck up on me, you know?” A little smile played at Elyan’s lips as he spoke. “For the longest time, I wasn’t even sure if we were friends. He was always so… smug and cocky and argumentative.”

 _“‘Was?’”_ Merlin repeated, with a teasing grin.

“Is,” Elyan agreed, with a smile. “I would’ve thought the guy hated me, except… he was always hanging around. Cracking stupid jokes. Doing things for me. And I figured, what more could I ask for in a friend?”

“So, what changed?” Merlin said. “What made you realize you have feelings for him?”

“Honestly,” Elyan said, “I think it was the talk I had with you, about the difference between loving someone and loving the idea of them.” Elyan was smiling, with a soft faraway look in his eyes. “Gwaine knows me better than anyone, and he still hasn’t run away.”

“Yeah,” Merlin murmured. “I know what you mean.”

***

He got coffee with Morgana a few weeks later. Standing in line with her felt a little surreal. Part of him still couldn’t believe he had agreed to see Morgana again. He would’ve thought any reminders of Arthur would be too painful for him to handle.

But Morgana had insisted. Stubbornness must have run in the Pendragon family.

And Merlin thought coffee was a good way to get out of the house. He’d spent so much time alone lately, wallowing in his sadness and wishing the world would go away. At first, he’d just been sad because he missed Arthur. Now, while he was certainly still missing Arthur, he was also sad because he was starting to miss the rest of the word. He missed going out for coffee and lunches and parties with other people. He felt like he was ready to reenter the world.

And reentering the world starts with coffee. One large mocha latte for Morgana, one hazlenut with no cream and extra sugar for Merlin. They sat down at a table by the window. Merlin took a sip of his coffee, waiting for her to start. He knew she must have called him for a reason. He had two possible reasons in his mind: either Arthur and Gwen had set a new date for the wedding, or their relationship was completely over. Morgana seemed to harbor some misguided hope that Merlin and Arthur would somehow end up together. She’d want to keep Merlin updated about Arthur’s relationship.

Then again, sang a little voice in the back of his head, there was a third reason she may have called him here. Maybe Arthur remembered him. That thought definitely crossed Merlin’s mind. He dismissed it immediately, of course. Merlin knew Arthur. If Arthur remembered him, he would’ve come to see Merlin himself.

Still, there was a tiny, stupid, irrational hope inside him that wouldn’t extinguish, saying, ‘What if?’ What if Arthur did remember him? What if he was waiting for Merlin to come to him? What if things could go back to the way they were before Arthur woke up? He tried to shove the hope away, but it wouldn’t go. He needed Morgana to crush it for him

Finally, she spoke. “I’m sorry he doesn’t remember you.”

Merlin let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. That tiny hope went out. It was replaced with a second helping of despair. How many times can a person lose someone? In how many different ways? “I’m not,” he told Morgana. “I was doomed to lose him from the start.” And he knew it; but he let himself get attached, anyway. “At least I know he’s safe and happy. He is happy, isn’t he?”

Morgana hesitated. “He and Gwen broke up.”

Merlin didn’t pretend to be surprised. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He doesn’t understand yet, but he will.”

“And you?” he asked. “Are you happy… with Gwen?”

She blushed. “Not exactly… But I will be. When she’s ready. Right now, she needs to be on her own for awhile.”

Merlin nodded, understanding. He didn’t know Gwen very well, but she didn’t seem like the type to jump from one relationship into another. Of course she needed some time to herself. He was happy she had someone like Morgana to wait for her.

“Arthur doesn’t know yet,” Morgana added. There was a subtle glint in her eyes that communicated threat of violence if Arthur were to find out about her and Gwen from _anyone_ except herself or Gwen.

Merlin held his hands up in mock surrender. “You don’t have to worry about me telling him. I haven’t seen him since that day at the hospital.”

Morgana stirred her coffee, looking thoughtful. “I think you should,” she told him. “I meant what I said before, Merlin. Arthur will remember you; I know he will. Maybe seeing you would trigger his memory.”

Merlin was already shaking his head. “I appreciate the idea, but there’s no real scientific approach I can take to get him back. Arthur didn’t even meet me; his _soul_ did. There’s no memory of me to trigger because he wasn’t in his body when we met.” He gave a little shrug, trying to pull off an air of indifference. But even he heard the way his voice cracked when he said there was no way he could get Arthur back.

Morgana must have heard it too. She looked him over with obvious sympathy in her eyes. “You know,” she said, “even if he doesn’t remember you, you could still get him back. Reintroduce yourself to him; ask him on a date.”

He smiled, despite himself, as he remembered his talk with Arthur all that time ago. _‘I wish we’d met when I was alive.’_

“Wouldn’t be the same,” he said. “The universe had to bend over backwards just so we could meet the first time. And the only reason we stuck together like we did was because we needed each other. I can’t stand the thought of forcing a meeting with him now, only for it to lead nowhere.” He couldn’t stand the thought of Arthur looking at him like he was a stranger, or brushing him off like he had never been important to him.

Morgana wouldn’t accept that answer. “Who says it has to lead nowhere? You think just because he doesn’t need you, he won’t want to spend time with you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “and I don’t want to find out.”

Morgana huffed. No doubt, she thought he was a coward. Maybe he was. Rejection is a hard pill to swallow even when it comes from someone you barely know. He couldn’t stomach the thought of taking it from the guy he was in love with.

Arthur didn’t even know him, and Merlin was in love with him. Talk about a hard pill to swallow.

“Besides,” Merlin added, “I know too much. I know private details about his life that he doesn’t remember telling me. If I met him now, I would have a headstart in our relationship. That wouldn’t be fair to him.”

She played with the necklace she was wearing. Merlin saw it was the same one she’d been wearing at the hospital. Black onyx. “Arthur knows about my magic,” she said.

Merlin sputtered. Quickly, he surveyed the cafe to make sure no one had heard her. “You told him? And he believed you?”

“Not at first,” she said. “He did after I told him some things only Uther would know.”

Merlin stared at her. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, “You saw the ghost of your father? When?”

“When I dropped Arthur at his apartment. Apparently, Dad’s been haunting the place ever since he died. If we didn’t know who the favorite child was before, then we sure as hell do now.” Morgana wore a smile; there was no mirth in it.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “You should never have to see him again.”

“Why do you think I’m wearing my necklace again?” The smile fell from her face, and she became pensive. “You wanna know the worst part? I saw _Uther,_ but I didn’t get to see my godfather. Don’t get me wrong: if anyone deserved peace after death, it was Gaius. Still...” She hugged her arms around herself; Merlin knew she wasn’t shuddering because of the air conditioner. “Would’ve been nice to see him one last time. You know?”

Merlin didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Such is life,” she said, with a little, ironic smile.

“Does anyone else know about your… secret?” Merlin said, careful not to use the word ‘magic’ out loud.

“Just Gwen,” she said.

He’d expected as much. “I told Elyan.”

She raised a brow. “Oh, so you two…?”

“Are great friends,” Merlin finished. He was getting a horrible sense of dejavu. Honestly, what was it with Morgana and accusing him of affairs while they were out for coffee? “He’s a really good guy; I hope Gwen can give him another chance.”

Morgana stared at him. “I don’t get you,” she said. “After everything that’s happened, it seems like such a waste, for you not to end up with either of them.”

Merlin smiled ironically. “Such is life.”

Altogether, Merlin’s morning was much less painful than he had expected. In fact, hanging out with Morgana had actually been… surprisingly fun. So much so that by the time they finished coffee, Merlin found himself wanting to hang out again. He liked having someone else to talk to about magic -- even if Morgana’s brazenness with the word made him nervous. Not to mention, he was already friends with Elyan, who was semi-close with his sister, who was in an almost, not-quite-yet romantic relationship with Morgana.

So, you know. They were _bound_ to run into each other eventually.

And besides, Merlin reasoned, he could certainly have his own friendship with Morgana that had nothing to do with Arthur. He could hang out with Morgana and keep his distance from Arthur at the same time. Why should he have to lose them both?

He liked Morgana. She reminded him of Arthur. And to his surprise, Merlin found that the reminder wasn’t painful. Quite the opposite, it was… nice. Almost nice enough to ease that empty feeling Arthur left inside him.

“I’m having a party next weekend,” he told her. The party had been Elyan’s idea. He thought Merlin should be around friends now. Begrudgingly, Merlin had to agree. “You can come by if you like. Bring Gwen.” He had no doubt Gwen would have more questions for him about how he knew Arthur -- but now that she knew about magic, perhaps he could tell her the truth. He wasn’t an old friend of Arthur’s at all. He didn’t even know him, really. (Arthur didn’t know him, at least.)

Morgana beamed at him.  “Gwen will be at a teaching conference that weekend, but I will definitely stop by.”  He chose to ignore the mischievous shine in her eyes and the devious smirk on her face.

***

“Remind me again: why do I ever throw parties?” Merlin was in the middle of cleaning up spilled chips. Next, he’d play a rousing drinking game called, ‘Please Use a Coaster!’ He had to speak over the blaring music to be heard. “Elyan, this was a terrible idea.”

“You’re having a party because you like being around people,” Elyan reminded him. “Plus,” he added surreptitiously, “you’re the only one of us with a soundproof apartment. We can’t let it go to waste.”

Merlin smiled. He’d used a spell to soundproof his apartment. Elyan looked one part jealous, two parts fascinated that Merlin could use magic to solve a problem as mundane as _noise complaints._

“Don’t forget,” Gwaine told Elyan, “he also loves alcohol -- the best part of all parties.” He finished off his beer and threw it into the garbage, punctuating his statement with the _clang_ of the bottle as it went in.

“I believe you’re thinking of yourself, Gwaine,” Elyan teased.

Gwaine didn’t offer any arguments to that statement. Instead, looking thoughtful, he said, “Wait a minute. Can _I_ soundproof _my_ apartment?”

Merlin was so happy they both knew about magic now.

He’d been reluctant to tell Gwaine at first. Elyan had been the one to convince him. “He deserves to know,” Elyan said. “Gwaine’s a skeptic, but only because he wants proof that the extraordinary is real. If we can give him that proof, then we should.”

“You just want him to know that you were right all along.”

Elyan grinned. “Well, yeah.”

Merlin remembered having to bite back his own smile, when he saw Elyan grin that wide all because of magic. Ever since Elyan found out the truth, Merlin got downright _giddy_ to see his friend excited about magic. He’d spent so much time worrying that if Elyan found out the truth about him, he’d become afraid of him. But Elyan truly didn’t seem afraid of him at all. He was constantly asking Merlin questions about magic, staring in wonder whenever he saw Merlin cast a spell, and telling Merlin outright how extraordinary he thought he was. If anything, Elyan loved Merlin _more_ now that he knew who he was. Go figure.

Still, Merlin wanted to keep Gwaine in the dark for entirely different reasons. “I wouldn’t feel right telling him about magic,” he told Elyan. “Another sorcerer gave Gwaine that charm to protect him from his power. As a fellow sorcerer, I have to respect their wishes.”

Elyan had nodded, albeit reluctantly. As much as he wanted to tell Gwaine the truth, he would respect the rules and customs Merlin felt bound to as a sorcerer. As a paranormal investigator, he owed Merlin that much. As Merlin’s _friend,_ he owed him that much.

“I couldn’t tell him,” Merlin repeated, with a sly look, “but… If _someone else_ decided to tell him the truth, then I don’t see how I could possibly stop that person.” This time, he didn’t fight the smile that made its way onto his face.

That very same day, Elyan paid Gwaine a visit at his apartment. Merlin didn’t come with, but Elyan told him all about it afterwards.

Elyan opened the conversation by telling Gwaine he had secret magical powers.

Gwaine, understandably, did not believe him.

“You don’t have to believe me,” Elyan said. “Take off your necklace, and then you’ll see the truth.”

Gwaine played along, if for no reason other than to mock Elyan later. As he took off the necklace, he widened his eyes comically, craning his head back and forth like he was waiting for his furniture to start floating above their heads.

Beside him, Elyan was doing much the same. Earlier, Merlin had assured him that the odds of Gwaine eviscerating him with magic were astronomically low. (Actually, Merlin said that the odds were _zero,_ but Elyan took those odds with a grain of salt to account for error.) (“No offense,” Elyan said, as he recounted the story to Merlin later, “but now that I live in a world with definitive proof of the supernatural, I have to start being careful.”) _(“Sorry, you think you’ve been careless so far?”)_ Nevertheless, Elyan couldn’t suppress the shiver of fear that went through him as his friend took off the necklace that was the sole barrier protecting the world from his powers.

The furniture did not start floating above their heads. The radio didn’t blare Gwaine’s favorite song. Elyan was not eviscerated on sight. Instead, as Gwaine pulled the necklace over his head, what happened to him was exactly what Elyan said would happen. Gwaine saw the truth.

Not in the same way as Morgana, though. Gwaine didn’t see his dead brother, or anything like that. He saw…

Well. Gwaine and Elyan soon discovered that Gwaine had a rather rare form of magic. He could read minds.

The way Elyan told the story, Gwaine had been quiet for a long time after he took the necklace off. Elyan started to worry because, well, Gwaine was never quiet. His mind started racing with the possibilities of what Gwaine was experiencing at that moment. Was Gwaine in a staring contest with a ghost Elyan couldn’t see? Or maybe even a demon? Were demons a thing? Elyan didn’t know what was real and what was fiction, anymore. He wished he’d asked Merlin more questions. He opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure what to say. He wondered if he made a mistake, if Gwaine would ever forgive him, if the two of them would ever be friends again…

Gwaine looked at him peculiarly. “Shouldn’t you be more excited right now? Isn’t this the part where you say, ‘I told you so?’”

Elyan stared at him. His gaze flashed around the room, looking for a third person Gwaine could be talking to. “Gwaine,” he said, worriedly, “are you talking to me, or…?”

Gwaine tilted his head, confused. “You’re really not excited at all, are you?” he said. “You’re just… worried… about _me.”_

Elyan was starting to panic. He had no idea what Gwaine was talking about. All he knew was this his sardonic, cynical friend looked decidedly un-sardonic and un-cynical at the moment. “Okay Gwaine, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m just going to--” He took Gwaine’s necklace in his hands and went to put it back around his neck.

Gwaine stopped him. He held Elyan’s wrists in place where they’d been poised to put the necklace on him. “I didn’t know you cared that much,” he said.

Elyan said, “What do you mean?”

In a daze, he thought, _Of course I care, idiot. I love you. Please stop freaking me out._

“You love me?” Gwaine said.

 _Oh shit,_ Elyan thought. Out loud, he only nodded.

Gwaine was still holding onto his wrists. Gently, he tugged on them. “Okay?” he asked, softly.

 _Okay,_ Elyan thought. Out loud, he nodded.

Gwaine pulled him closer and kissed Elyan like he’d been wanting to for who knows how long. Elyan let his hands fall around Gwaine’s neck. As soon as he got his bearings back, he closed the clasp on the necklace and let it fall from his hands to hang there again.

They stayed together even as they broke the kiss, heads bent towards each other and foreheads touching. Elyan rested against Gwaine, letting out little breaths against his mouth. After a moment, he spoke. “So… Are you still a skeptic?”

They both laughed. Gwaine leaned closer and pressed another kiss to Elyan’s lips. Merlin had a horrible feeling that kissing would be the way most of their arguments ended from now on.

Since that day, Gwaine kept his necklace on for the most part. As happy as he was to have proof that magic existed -- and even happier, still, to be his own piece of living proof -- he decided other people should get to keep their thoughts to themselves.

They still did the show. Gwaine continued to play the skeptic; it was the role people expected of him. Elyan, in turn, pretended not to know that the paranormal was real. Merlin had a long talk with both of them about his fear of the world learning the truth about people like him. People like him _and Gwaine._ They understood. Elyan looked at both of them solemnly and said, “Your secret is safe with me.”

They still did the show, but a few minor changes were made to Ghost Getters. The more Merlin told them about his fears concerning magic, the more Gwaine and Elyan both thought these were issues that should concern _everyone --_ magic-users or not. They decided their show would take a new approach to the supernatural. Ghost Getters still visited allegedly-haunted locations and tried to contact the undead. However, Ghost Getters would _also_ engage in a larger discussion about the supernatural. They planned to discuss lesser-known myths from different cultures, the gentrification in areas where magic was commercialized and consumerized, and the best way to appreciate another group’s practices without disrespecting them or appropriating them. Ghost Getters could keep magic a secret even while they dispelled some of the misconceptions that surrounded it.

Merlin was thrilled about the new direction the show was taking. For the first time he could remember, he felt hopeful for the future. He was still afraid; he was always afraid of being found out as a sorcerer, but for the first time, he felt like he could _do something_ about the fear. The monster under his bed wasn’t gone, by any means, but Merlin wasn’t ignoring it anymore. He was trying to tame it. And he had people who were helping him.

Elyan seemed equally excited about the new direction the show was taking. He joined Ghost Getters partly because he wanted to prove the existence of the supernatural. But he also joined because he wanted to make a difference: he wanted to open people’s minds to the endless possibilities that existed all around them. He still felt confident that he could make that difference. He could teach people to respect other people’s beliefs and practices, even if they personally didn't believe in them.

Gwaine was excited for the changes they’d make in the show -- but he was particularly excited for the parts of the show that would stay the same. He seemed to be relieved that magic was staying a secret.

“Of course you are,” Elyan said. “You wouldn’t want to admit to all our subscribers that you were wrong.”

Gwaine argued, “I have no problem saying I was wrong. But the day we show our viewers indisputable proof of the paranormal is the day our show ends. And I don’t know about you two, but I’ve come to like my job as a ghost hunter.”

Elyan raised a brow at him. _“You_ like your job as a ghost hunter? Really?”

Gwaine grinned. “Sure. It pays the bills. And I like the people,” he added, winking at his boyfriend.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but he knew what Gwaine meant. Getting to work with his best friends everyday was one of the best parts of his life. Especially now that they knew the truth. He felt closer to them than ever.

Unfortunately for him, that closeness wouldn’t be lasting long: he currently had to leave them to welcome more guests at the door. He regretted that he’d invited so many people to this party. If his neighbors saw all his guests, they’d no doubt wonder how Merlin’s apartment remained so quiet through the night. The walls in the apartment complex were notoriously thin; Merlin could hear when his next-door neighbor flushed his toilet.

The next guest to arrive was Morgana. She had a smile on her face and a secret in her eyes. She started speaking to Merlin before he could open his mouth to say hello. “Hey, Merlin! I hope you don’t mind; I brought someone.”

With a sweep of her raven-black hair, she stepped aside. In her wake: a halo of blond hair. A boy Merlin thought he’d never see again.

Arthur smiled at him, the way people smile at strangers they meet at parties. Merlin felt his heart sink. The prat said, “Hi. You must be Merlin.”

Merlin sidled a look at Morgana, who looked all too pleased with herself. “Must I?”

His voice came out as a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of drinking
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you guys liked this chapter! Please let me know if you think it was too long.


	8. Chapter 8

Maybe he was being rude, but Merlin couldn’t bring himself to answer Arthur like he was just another stranger at his party.

Arthur looked at him like he was something peculiar. Merlin was reminded of their first meeting from all that time ago: Arthur locking eyes with him and shouting, loud and accusatory, ‘You can see me!’

“I remember you from the hospital,” Arthur said. “You were there when I woke up.”

“How are you feeling?” Merlin said. He couldn’t help himself. He had to hear from Arthur that he was okay.

“Better,” Arthur answered. “The doctors are calling me a medical marvel. They were moments away from pulling the plug on me, and I just… woke up. Like magic.”

Merlin swallowed. “Stranger things have happened,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll come up with a scientific explanation soon enough. Make yourselves comfortable; I need to go refill the chips.” He turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen, grabbing the still-mostly-full bowl of chips on his way.

The rest of the night, he committed to avoiding Arthur as much as possible. He wouldn’t stay in the same room as him. When Arthur walked into the kitchen, Merlin turned and headed into the front room. When Arthur headed there, he went back into the kitchen. Merlin didn’t have a lot of rooms in his apartment, okay?

Elyan kept asking if he was alright. Merlin said yes, until he caught yet another glimpse of blond hair and couldn’t anymore. “I need a minute,” he said.

As Merlin headed for his bedroom, he could hear Elyan talking to Morgana. “What were you thinking, bringing Arthur here?”

“They need each other,” Morgana said. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Merlin shut the door behind him, muffling the sounds. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He knew what he’d lost; he didn’t need to be reminded. Tiredly, he sauntered across the room and sat at the window. He thought about the time he first showed Arthur his magic. It was the first time he opened up to another person about it since his mom died. And Merlin didn’t know back then, but it was the moment he’d look back on later, when he came clean to Elyan and then Gwaine.

The door opened, and the sound of it tore him from his thoughts. Merlin looked up to find himself, once again, face-to-face with the person he’d been avoiding all night.

Arthur blinked at him. “Sorry,” he said, “I thought this was the bathroom.”

No doubt Morgana had pointed him this way. “Two doors down, to the right.”

“What are you doing in here?” Arthur let himself in the room, leaning against Merlin’s wall like he owned the place.

Merlin stared at him. “Didn’t you say you had to use the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I thought I was gonna throw up, but apparently not.” Arthur fixed his jacket, looking unfairly cool for someone who admitted to feeling sick just moments ago.

“Lovely,” Merlin deadpanned. Arthur just stared at him, expectantly, the way he always did when Merlin avoided his questions. Merlin felt something turn violently in his stomach when Arthur looked at him that way. “I’m sort of avoiding someone.”

“Who? An ex?”

“Sort of,” Merlin said, “and sort of not.” He angled a look at Arthur. “Why do you care?”

Arthur shrugged. “I just went through my own breakup. Maybe I’m projecting.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “Morgana told me about Gwen.”

Arthur stepped closer into the room. He took the seat across from Merlin by the window. “Did she tell you they’re dating now? She hasn’t told me yet. She thinks she’s being sneaky. But I’ve known Morgana for a long time. I know what she looks like when she’s in love with someone, and she’s in love with Gwen.”

Merlin started to say, “Technically, they’re not dating yet--” He stopped when Arthur gave him a look. “I’m sorry,” he said, instead.

Arthur ignored him. “Of course she told you. You know Gwen, you’re friends with Morgana, you work with Elyan. I fall asleep in a world where you don’t exist. Six months later, I wake up, and you’re everywhere.” He looked at Merlin closely. “Tell me about your ex.”

“Well,” Merlin said, “he’s a bit of a prat. One day, he just showed up. Kind of like a stray cat, where you feed it once and then suddenly it’s camped out in your front room like it owns the place.” That comparison may or may not have come from a real life example. (She was a white tabby. He named her Aithusa.) “He was pushy and contentious and annoyingly self-assured.”

“He sounds like an arse.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, “he was!” He couldn’t contain the little smile on his face. As dismal as their situation was, he couldn’t deny that a small part of him felt a thrill of delight at hearing Arthur call himself an arse. He couldn’t wait to tease him later--

But then he remembered: there would be no later. Arthur would never be in on the joke. He would never remember Merlin.

Merlin cleared his throat. He blinked away the tears that were suddenly just behind his eyes. His voice was soft when he spoke. “But he was also funny and caring and more genuine than anyone I’ve ever known. Without even trying, he changed my life. My job, my relationships, are all better for having known him.”

Arthur let out a breath. “Well, Jesus. Who is this guy?”

“Nobody. Look, why are you listening to me ramble on, anyway? I’m sure you’d be having a lot more fun out there with everyone else.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. He didn’t make any move to leave, though. On the contrary, he stretched out on his seat and got comfortable beside Merlin. Unsurprising, really. Since the day they met, Arthur had a habit of making himself comfortable in Merlin’s life. “When I notice a guy holed up in his bedroom at his own party, I decide maybe he needs someone to talk to. I guess I’m chivalrous like that.” He added, quieter, “Especially if that same guy was the first face I saw when I woke up from my coma. A meeting like that leaves an impression, you know?”

Merlin sucked in a breath. He was struck with a flash of that conversation they’d had so long ago. _‘I would’ve noticed you,’_ Arthur had said. Merlin had brushed him off. But now, he found himself wondering if Arthur had meant what he said. He told Arthur, “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

The way Arthur looked at him then was considering, like he was trying to figure out a rather difficult puzzle. “There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t put my finger on it.” He placed his own hand over Merlin’s where it rested on the seat. “I’m sorry about your boyfriend.”

Merlin could barely hear him. Light sparked where their hands touched. Arthur gasped.

“The spell…” Merlin breathed. The spell he cast to bring Arthur back. He could feel it again: that same pull that brought Arthur back from the precipice of death. He could feel it drawing Arthur back to him.

“What spell?” Arthur cried.

“Arthur… Do you want to know who I am? How I know Morgana? Why I was at the hospital that day and why I’ve been hiding in my room all night instead of out at my own party?”

The light was still sending up sparks where their hands touched. Arthur didn’t move to pull his away. He looked Merlin square in the eye. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Merlin said. “I’m going to show you.” He let it happen. He put all his focus into the spell. _Come back to me…_

He could feel it happen before he saw it. Arthur blinked. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Merlin differently, just as he had when he woke up at the hospital.

This time, that spark of recognition was back in his eyes.

“Merlin.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in a funk with my writing. I could use some positive feedback right now *hint hint* 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


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